Vicious Motivator
by AdahlenMahariel
Summary: Molly and Sherlock's relationship is changing, Sherlock is starting to possibly even harbour feelings for her! How will this work out for the supposedly unfeeling Consulting detective and his Pathologist. Sherlolly, John!Mary, rated for future lemons and language.
1. A Study in Jealousy

**Hey everyone! My name's Ellie, and this is my first ever Sherlock fic! I'm so excited to get this started and to write about my OTP Sherlolly! Just to let you know, I respect everyone's ships, but there will be no romantic Johnlock in here, as I myself can only see them as friends. Also, I'm not a perfect writer, so I'm very open to constructive criticism. I had much fun writing this, although it was a bit tricky to write in Sherlock's point of view, and try to write about the way he feels about Molly. Anyway, that's all! Enjoy the story.**

* * *

Molly sat on her tiny couch, in her tiny apartment, eagerly waiting. Tonight, her best friend from high school, Mary Morstan –make that Dr. Mary Morstan- was coming down to stay with Molly for a bit, until she found a flat where she could live, as she had been accepted as a Doctor at St. Bart's.

The last time Molly had seen Mary was in December for Christmas. Molly's mother had invited her down for the holiday, so she had spent a long weekend in her old hometown. She saw Mary there, who was also spending Christmas with her parents.

The two friends loved each other very dearly, but didn't see much of each other because Mary worked outside of London, in a bit of a quainter town. Recently however, she decided it was time for a change, and decided London was just the thing.

So, Molly was sitting, with tea and biscuits at the ready, curled up with a book she wasn't really reading, as she waited for Mary.

A knock at the door echoed through her flat. Molly eagerly jumped up from the worn brown couch, leaped over Toby and pried the door open.

"MA-…_ Sherlock?_" Molly exclaimed, when she discovered, that it was not her short, curvy, blonde best friend at the door, but the tall, and incredibly handsome, Sherlock Holmes. Behind him, John gave her a smile and a little wave, which she returned.

"What're you two doing here?" Molly asked, leaning against the doorframe. 2 years ago, Sherlock Holmes arriving at her flat would've turned Molly Hooper into a bumbling mess, however, after helping him fake his own death so he could wipe out Moriarty's network, and housing him for a month or two, her relationship with Sherlock had grown.

Molly was quite shy, but once you got to know her, she was actually a very outgoing, intelligent person. During the past 2 years, Sherlock had seen more of that side of her, and Molly liked to think perhaps he liked that side of her. She'd even go as far to say that she and Sherlock were friends. She knew he admired her and was grateful to her for her help with his 'death.'

"My liver. Remember?" The consulting detective said, arching an eyebrow at her. Molly brought her hand to her forehead.

"Of course! I completely forgot, it's in the fridge, you know where it is." Molly murmured, inviting the two into her flat. Sherlock walked in, and stopped at the sight of the tea and biscuits.

"You're expecting company tonight." He stated rather than questioned.

"I am." Molly confirmed, going to the fridge herself, and grabbing the small cooler that contained a liver she had gotten for one of Sherlock's experiments.

"Who are you expecting Molls?" John asked, using his nickname for her. Over the past 2 years, John and Molly had also developed a friendship, and a strong one at that.

"My best friend is coming over tonight. She's going to be living with me until she can find a flat." Molly answered. "Tea?" She asked, handing Sherlock his liver.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, I'd like to get started on this experiment as soon as possible. Thank you Molly. John?" Sherlock said, looking over at his sidekick expectantly.

John never got the chance to answer, because for the second time that night, a knock echoed through the flat. This knock, however, was a bit more enthusiastic than Sherlock's had been, and Molly smiled in recognition.

Running to the doorway, she pulled the door open, to be greeted with the sight of her best friend in the world, Mary Morstan.

Dr. Mary Morstan was a shorter woman, with a curvy yet petite frame, a sweet heart shaped face, warm hazel eyes, and long natural blonde hair. She looked very sweet and gentle looking, and was truly, underneath all the layers of sass, sarcasm, and attitude she possessed. Mary was a very ambitious and confident woman, and she brought out the best side of Molly.

"MOLLS!" Mary screeched, dropping her bags and launching herself at the other woman, bringing her into a bear hug. Molly hugged her best friend back just as tightly.

"MARY!" She exclaimed, mocking her slightly, to which Mary pulled back and swatted her playfully.

"You sweet little git! Wait till you hear the gossip I ha-" Mary stopped her speech when she turned to see the two men, observing the scene before them.

"Molly? _Two_ men in your apartment? My my, aren't you the busy one?" Mary remarked sarcastically. Molly rolled her eyes, and fought the blush that was flooding her cheeks.

"Mary…" Molly started, leading her over to where the two men stood. "I'd like to introduce you to my two friends."

"This is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is Dr. Mary Morstan." Molly smiled, Mary looked over to Molly for a quick second, arching an eyebrow. She knew all about Molly and her regards for Mr. Holmes. Molly gave Mary a warning glance.

"Sherlock Holmes, I've heard all about you. Nice to meet you." Mary said slowly, sticking a hand out while her eyes scanned over his face, studying him. Sherlock shook her hand quickly, and gave her a nod and a little "Nice to meet you too." He also looked her up and down, clearly deducing her friend. Molly rolled her eyes.

"And this is my friend Dr. John Watson. John, this is Mary." Molly introduced.

Mary's eyes flicked from the tall detective over to John, and Molly could see her face light up with interest.

"Dr. Watson, I've also heard all about you, I read your blog quite regularly." Mary said, sticking her hand out eagerly to shake his.

"Really?" John said, eyeing Sherlock with a grin, who merely huffed in response.

"And what was your favorite post?" John asked. Him and Mary had been shaking hands a bit longer than necessary now.

'"I particularly liked the one on the Hounds of Baskerville, it was amazing." Mary remarked, finally pulling her hand back.

John looked as if he was about to respond when someone yelled from outside Molly's apartment.

"Oi! Mary! Could you help me with these bags? The damn elevators broken!" Mary rolled her eyes.

"I'm coming ya stupid git!" She yelled, hopping out of the flat.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows at Molly. "You've never mentioned her before." He remarked.

"You never asked." Molly replied, crossing her arms, she looked at John.

"Hey John! Try not to look _too_ dreamy there." Molly smiled coyly at him; John shook his head, breaking himself from his trance, and gave Molly a look.

Mary walked back in, with her copious bags in tow. She dropped them all and plopped on the couch, putting her feet on the table.

"Hey! Get your feet off the table th-" Molly was cut off as two big arms grabbed her from behind pulling her in for a hug.

"Molly Bear!" A familiar voice yelled out to her. She broke from the grasp and turned to face the owner to that voice.

"Peter!" Molly mused, throwing her arms around the man. She started screeching however, when Peter started spinning her around and around.

"PETER!" Molly yelled, until finally, her flat stopped spinning, and she was set down. Molly tripped a bit on her feet, still feeling woozy.

"Peter… this is Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, a few friends of mine." Molly explained half-heartedly, flopping onto the couch beside Mary, waiting for her head to stop feeling so light.

"I'm Peter, Mary's brother." She heard Peter introduce.

"John Watson." John replied, shaking his hand.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, and Molly's head snapped up at the surprisingly cold tone he used. He was always hostile to strangers, but never downright cold.

"Right…" Peter said, almost to himself, before turning to Molly.

"You are looking great, by the way Molly!" He remarked, Molly looked up, and smiled at Peter, he was so sweet, to bad he was gay, he would be an amazing boyfriend. However, even if he wasn't gay, Molly still could never feel anything other than sibling like affection for Pete. Molly's smile broke however, when she noticed how tense Sherlock seemed, he looked very uncomfortable, and almost… angry?"

"Thanks Pete! Not so bad yourself!" At this Sherlock huffed, obviously irritated.

"I'll meet you downstairs John, and go get us a cab." And without saying anything further, Sherlock stalked out of the flat. John sighed.

"I'm sorry Molls, I have no idea what's wrong with him." John apologized, putting his hands in his pockets.

"It's fine John, it's Sherlock. I understand." She replied.

"So that was Sherlock Holmes?" Pete said. "I've only seen picture's of him, but he's even more sexy and dark in person. A little hostile though." The room was silent for a moment, as John's mouth hung open a little, staring in shock at Peter. Molly, Mary and Peter all started laughing uncontrollably.

"Wait… do you mean? I don't understand." John sputtered. Molly reigned in her laughter.

"I'm gay, Dr. Watson." Peter said, smirking at the doctor.

"Oh, well that's good, I- uh I mean, I'm not, but it's okay if you… whatever." John stammered, still quite surprised, which caused the three to start laughing all over again.

"It's ok there Doctor, I'm already taken." Pete smiled, patting John on the shoulder.

"Oh, I wasn't worried, I just… um, ok. I'm going to go get Sherlock. Nice meeting you all, Peter… and Mary." John looked over a Mary, and gave her a warm smile; Molly looked over at her friend and almost laughed at her blush.

"Bye John!" Molly called out, as John left the flat.

* * *

Sherlock stormed out of the flat, anger causing his strides to be quicker, and longer. He did not like the way that Peter was holding Molly. He was far too comfortable. And it was obvious that Molly had no qualms with it. No, Sherlock decided, walking out into the warm evening air, he did _not_ like it one bit.

Sherlock quickly hailed a cab, and got in, paying the cabby, and telling him his friend would be out in a moment. After, he sat silently fuming. Still angry with this "Peter" but really he was angrier with himself.

These emotions… Sherlock had been having them frequently, and only with Molly.

He had begun to notice it months ago. When someone mentioned Molly, he would immediately perk up, and listen to what that person had to say. When Molly smiled at him, he felt a tiny flutter in his chest cavity. _Odd_.

Whenever Molly did or said something clever or smart, he felt a strange surge of pride for her, even though it was not his achievement.

It had been so strange, at first, seeing the other side of Molly. After the incident with the fall, she grew more comfortable and confident in his presence. Gone was the stumbling schoolgirl, who he could easily manipulate, and enter this interesting, headstrong, smart and funny woman, who Sherlock enjoyed quite immensely.

He could now actually carry an intelligent and somewhat stimulating conversation with Molly, and he did, quite often, when he came into the morgue, or Molly came to visit.

It had begun with admiration, and eventually Sherlock found himself enjoying her company. Soon he sort of found her to be his friend, not like John was, but still a friend. That friendship had continued to grow, and now he was having these sensations.

Then there were the dreams- suddenly; Sherlock's train of thought was interrupted, as John stepped into the car, giving the cabbie the signal to start driving.

They sat in silence for a few moments before John turned to Sherlock.

"What was that all about?" John demanded, frowning at Sherlock.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean John." Sherlock replied in a monotone voice.

"You do know what I mean! You just stalked right out of Molly's flat without saying goodbye."

"Her friends are obnoxious." Sherlock said, trying to justify his illogical and emotional actions. In truth, he did not mind Mary that much, upon first meeting her, he deduced she was Molly's age, 31, enjoyed swimming, non smoker, youngest of three, drank an abundance of coffee, and was left handed. In addition, the woman was obviously a doctor because Molly had introduced her as such.

"Her friends seemed quite nice." John commented, trying to remain casual.

"Especially the doctor, right John?" Sherlock said, giving John a look showing he didn't buy his nonchalance.

"She was… very nice." John muttered, almost to himself.

"Yes, I suppose she was fine, I didn't like her brother."

"What's wrong with her brother?" John exclaimed, eyeing Sherlock as they paid the cabbie and got out.

"He was very handsy with Molly, I just don't want her to become infatuated with this man and have him let her down. Plus he could serve as a distraction." Sherlock answered, this time he was trying to be casual.

"Oh, I don't think that he's going to be distracting Molly, Sherlock." John said, as Sherlock pushed open the door to their flat.

"They were obviously very happy to see each other, that would lead to me guessing they have a close relationship, that could easily evolve to something more."

"No, no, no. Sherlock, you of all people should've noticed." John remarked, looking back at Sherlock over his shoulder as they climbed up the stairs.

"Noticed what John?" Sherlock grumbled, growing increasingly tired of this conversation.

John abruptly stopped in front of their door. "Sherlock, Peter's gay." John said, as if it should be obvious. Sherlock stared back at John. How had he not seen it? He could deduce everything about someone in a couple seconds, yet he hadn't been able to tell that Peter was gay?

"How do you know?" Sherlock asked John, frowning.

"Right after you left… it, uh just came up, and he told me." John explained, obviously leaving something out, Sherlock however, chose to not badger him.

They stepped into 221B, and Sherlock sat down on the couch, thinking back to the moment Peter had walked in. Upon seeing him grab Molly, Sherlock's mind went blank, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that someone was holding his Pathologist.

Wait a moment, _his_? Sherlock sighed sitting down. _His_. Just a slip of the mind, Molly wasn't, and would never be, his, he told himself, thinking back too the memory.

He had been so distracted by this strange feeling of possessiveness, that he hadn't even deduced that Peter was gay. That much was clear. Now came the hard question.

Why was he feeling possessive of Molly?

It didn't make any sense. He was in no way bonded to Molly; she wasn't his girlfriend, wife or sister, so why would he feel so angry when someone else put his or her hands on her. He certainly wasn't attracted to her… was he?

It was true that as Molly got more confident around him, she started wearing what he guessed was her casual clothing. Molly mostly wore simple form fitting t-shirts and pants, and almost always had her hair in a ponytail. However in the morgue, she tended to wear baggier and thicker clothing, no doubt for comfort and practicality. Before, Sherlock had only seen Molly wear that clothing, in the morgue, but now, he saw her in her normal clothes, he couldn't deny she had a nice figure.

Despite what people believed, Sherlock noticed these things. Molly was fairly petite, and of average height. She had very well rounded hips, and her breasts, while small, were normal. Molly was by no definition, a model, but she was fairly attractive.

But anyone could see that, and surely not every male who noticed Molly felt possessive over her, unless, of course, they had feelings for her.

_Feelings_. That word floored Sherlock. No. He did not, could not have feelings for Molly. He was married to his work. Molly was nice, and he considered her a friend, but he did not have feelings for her, either sexually, or romantically.

Although that would be the only logical explanation as to why he would be feeling so possessive. But no, he would not allow himself to think these things. His, dare he say, jealousy, was a one time thing, a slip of logical thought, which would not happen again.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Sherlock carried himself and the liver over to the kitchen, so he could begin with his experiment.

* * *

"Tea or coffee?" Molly offered, grabbing the kettle.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mary asked plopping down on the couch.

Molly grinned, preparing to make her friend some coffee.

"What about you Pete?" Molly asked.

"Tea, no milk, one sugar." He offered.

Molly got her friend's drinks, and then got tea for herself, and plopped herself down on her small armchair facing the couch.

"My god Molly, I've seen pictures, but you've never told me how attractive that Doctor is!" Mary said, taking a sip and sighing with appreciation. Molly rolled her eyes.

"I never told you because I don't find him attractive like you do. He's my friend." Molly stated turning to Peter.

"How's Kellan?"

Peter beamed. "He's great! In fact, I've been thinking about popping the question soon." Molly and Mary both exclaimed.

"OH! Please do! I love weddings." Mary said, clapping.

"You mean you love the free food at weddings." Molly joked, rolling her eyes.

"You read me like a book darling." Mary retorted.

They continued to chatter aimlessly until Mary brought up the subject that had been hanging in the air since the two siblings had arrived.

"So. _That_ was Mr. Holmes?" Mary said, setting down her now empty cup.

"As you observed. Anyone for a second cup?" She replied, trying to change the subject.

"We're good. So, is this the same Sherlock Holmes you fancy Molly?" Pete grinned.

"Do you know any other Sherlock bloody Holmes? Of course it is you git." Mary exclaimed. Peter gave his sister a playful shove on the shoulder.

"I was just clarifying. I can see why she likes him." Peter drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh no you don't, you might as well be engaged Mister, and he's Molly's man." Mary interrupted. Molly scoffed, tucking her legs underneath her.

"He is in no way, 'my man.' We're barely friends, and I've gotten over him." Molly said, lifting her chin.

"Oh really?" Mary mused, her tone unbelieving.

"Really! After I helped him… well, you know, fake his death; I stopped feeling like such a delirious schoolgirl around him. I'm actually myself in his presence. I still like him, very much so, but I'm not a giggling fan girl anymore." Molly said, grabbing the dishes and taking them to the kitchen a few short paces away.

"But you'd still like to jump him, if you could, right?" Pete asked, and grabbed a biscuit from the table.

"God! You're so vulgar! Have some class Peter." Mary replied.

"Exactly."

"But you would like to bone him, right?" Mary asked, turning over to Molly, waiting for her to dish the gossip out.

Molly huffed. "The only way I would ever do that with Sherlock, was if he returned my feelings. But, as I've learned the hard way, that will never happen."

"I wouldn't say that sweet pea, did you see the way that man stormed out of here?" Molly shook her head, and sat back down.

"That was the anger of a jealous man. I'd bet you all my money that when he saw me run in there and hug you, a little green monster latched onto him." Peter relayed.

"No, that's impossible, Sherlock would've deduced that you were gay. He deduces everything and everyone." Molly said, destroying that theory right away, not wanting to get any hopes up.

"Now let's just wait a minute here, that actually makes sense. And if he was jealous, he would've been too distracted to make a deduction." Mary reasoned, starting to get excited

"I think you two are reading to much into this." Molly sighed.

"I think you're not reading into this enough." Mary retorted, sticking her tongue out at the Pathologist.

"Well, I wasn't paying attention to Sherlock, I was more focusing on the fact that you and John couldn't stop making doe eyes at each other." Molly taunted.

"Was not!" Mary yelled.

"Was to!" Molly yelled back.

"Was not!"

"Was to!"

"Was not!"

"Was to." Peter interjected, smiling at his sister slyly. Mary huffed.

"Alright, so maybe I was _glancing_… at the doctor, here and there, and he might've been looking at me too, but I was not making 'doe eyes.'" Mary defended.

'Yeah, yeah, so when are we to be expecting the wedding invitations. Better get started if you want to catch the season." Peter replied. Mary slapped him on his shoulder playfully.

"John Watson is a very attractive man, who I may or may not ask out, but I think it's still way to early to be thinking about marriage." Mary stated, with an air of finality.

They continued to chat for a while, until Peter checked the pink wall clock and stood up.

"Well, I have to get home before supper, Kellan's cooking tonight. Goodbye my annoying sister, I hope this new job and change works out for you." Peter smiled, standing up from his seat to hug his sister.

"Bye Molls, I'll see you soon, I promise to visit both you and Mary!" He said, leaning in for a hug. While they were embracing however, he leaned over to whisper into her ear.

"And don't you give up on that hunk of a detective. I've never seen a man so jealous since Kellan and I went on our trip to Mexico and had that very attractive waiter." Molly laughed, and let go of Peter, following him to the door. Once she had shut it behind him, Molly turned to Mary.

"Well darling. What do you say we unpack your things?" Molly asked, grabbing one of the many bags that were left discarded on the floor.

"Sounds good to me, I can't wait to live in the city. It feels like I've turned a new page in my life, and by the looks of it, this chapter is gonna kick ass." Mary smiled, following a laughing Molly down the hallway, to her new temporary home, and her new and hopefully exciting life.

* * *

**Huh? Huh? Good? Bad? Amazing? Terrible? Let me know, every reviewer gets a piece of cake and their own personal Benedict Cumberbatch. I promise. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! Lot's more to come. **

**_Ellie _**


	2. Coffee and Dancing

**Hello everyone! Thank you to all my followers and reviewers! Three reviews and 9 followers?! Wow! That is awesome! *Throws free Benedict Cumberbatches at you all.* Anyway, enjoy this chapter, it's more of a filler for the next one, which I think will have a lot of John and Mary in it! Also, it get's a little M rated just right here at the start, nothing to bad, don't fret. You have been warned!**

* * *

Her lips against his skin.

Her skin, so soft, he had never noticed before.

Her voice, whispering into the darkness.

Wrapping her legs around him.

Moaning.

Bruised lips.

Fingernails scratching his back.

Sherlock sat up abruptly from his bed, panting heavily. He let his eyes adjust to the early morning light, before closing them again and groaning slightly into the pillow. Another one.

Not only did Molly torment him in his real life, but now she was also affecting his sleep, with these strange and confusing dreams! Sherlock sighed, climbing out of bed and padding to the bathroom, trying not to wake John.

Sherlock immediately started stripping his clothes, trying not to think about how Molly had discarded her clothes in his dream. He would not think of that right now.

Jumping into the shower, Sherlock turned the temperature to a nice icy chill, and let the water rain over him.

It had been five day's since Sherlock had seen Molly at her apartment. Five day's since he had met her friends Mary, and Peter. Five day's since he had felt what he now had labeled as jealousy.

Sherlock was still adamant that he had none other than friendly feelings and admiration for Molly; however, his dreams were getting even more vivid. He still remembered what a shock the first one had been, and all he had done in that dream was kiss her, but now…

Sherlock shook his head, as if he was literately shaking the thoughts out of his mind, and continued with his shower, washing his hair and body before jumping out and back to his bedroom.

Sherlock sighed as he dried off to get dressed. He had expressed to John the day before his desire to go to the morgue today, but now he was feeling less than keen, as no doubt, when he saw Molly, he would be reminded of what he had experienced during his sleep. But he needed to study his cultures today, and so, a trip to the morgue it was.

* * *

"Molls! I'm bored!" Mary called out for what had to be the 30th time. Molly rolled her eyes at the young woman.

"You were the one who said she wanted to come to the morgue with me." Molly reasoned.

"Yes, but I wasn't expecting it to be so…"

"Dead in here?" Molly said sarcastically before snickering to herself. Mary cringed.

"Molly that was horrible." Mary said, but she was smiling too.

"Well, my lunch break's almost here, so we can go out and get something to eat at that nice little spot across the street if you want." Molly said, filling in her paperwork for Tabitha George, who had died earlier today of a heart attack.

"That sounds good to me, as long as I get out of this blasted morgue." Mary nodded, poking Tabitha's cheek with her gloved hand.

"Hey! Don't touch the bodies!" Molly exclaimed, looking up from her paperwork.

Mary pouted, "You're no fun." Molly rolled her eyes as Mary sat back down on her assigned stool.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until the sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance. Molly looked up slightly and sighed.

"Sherlock and John are here." She stated, causing Mary to perk up.

"Really? This day just got a whole lot more interesting. How can you tell it's them?"

"I just know, besides I think Sherlock wanted to study his cultures today."

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the worlds only consulting detective waltzed in, with John at his side.

"Hello Molly, I'm here to see my cultures." Sherlock stated, walking up to the Pathologist.

"In the fridge." Molly muttered, not looking up from her paperwork. Sherlock walked over to the fridge.

"Hello Molly, and Mary." John said, taking a seat on a stool beside Mary.

"Hello again." Mary murmured.

"Hi John." Molly greeted.

"What are you two up to today?" John asked, while Sherlock walked over to a microscope with his many petri dishes.

"I came to spend time with Molly at work, and be introduced to St. Bart's, but so far it's been uneventful." Mary grumbled.

"You have no right to complain, you insisted that you wanted to join me today." Molly repeated.

"I know, I know." Mary relented. Molly looked up from her paperwork.

"What about you John, how's your day?"

"Ok I guess, Sherlock's antsy, waiting for a case." John said, looking back at Sherlock, who was intently focused on his cultures.

"Oh god, hopefully you get one soon." Molly muttered. John nodded in agreement.

The trio exchanged pleasantries for a while longer, although it was mostly John and Mary who were carrying the conversation, while Molly finally finished her paperwork. Sherlock remained in the corner, making notes and peering into his microscope.

It was quarter past 12 and almost time for Molly's lunch break when another visitor burst through the door.

"Hello Molly." Jack greeted. Molly smiled lightly. Jack was an older man who was very kind to Molly whenever he saw her.

"Hello Jack, what's going on?" Molly asked, shuffling her papers and setting them in a tan folder.

"There's been a car accident. Three dead. The bodies should be coming your way in a few minutes here, just thought I'd give you a heads up." Molly groaned, and Sherlock looked up from his microscope.

"Thank you Jack." Molly said, getting out her gloves and tools for the next few autopsies.

"I'm sorry Mary, I can't go to lunch. If I want to be done here before 7 I have to get started right away." Molly apologized. Mary gave her a smile, hopping down from her stool.

"It's fine, I'll just go alone." Mary said, shouldering her bag, and turning, when John's voice stopped her.

"I could go with you, if you'd like." He offered, Mary turned to look at him and grinned.

"That sounds wonderful. Do you mind going to the place across the street?"

"Anything's better than the cafeteria food here, which is what I was planning on." John said, following Mary out the door. Molly smiled as she watched them go, giving Mary a little wink as she walked out.

* * *

Sherlock sat, making notes on his aging cultures, as John and Mary made their way out. Sherlock sighed and looked up.

Molly was sitting with her back to him, gathering the tools needed for her next three autopsies no doubt. Her light brown hair made a stark contrast against the bleach white lab coat she wore. That had been the first thing Sherlock had noticed upon walking in, she had worn her hair down today. Secretly, Sherlock thought that he liked her hair best that way. It framed her face nicely.

Forcing himself to focus on his experiment, time got the better of Sherlock, and before he knew it, it was 5:30 and Molly was just finishing up the paperwork for the third body.

Sherlock gathered his cultures and put them back in the fridge, and cleaned up the lab space. Molly hadn't noticed him moving around, and was busily writing, her eyebrows pulled together like they usually were when she focused.

She looked tired, Sherlock thought, taking in the rings under her eyes and her slumped posture. Immediately he thought of ways he could help. One solution stuck out. Coffee.

Getting up Sherlock pushed through the doors, and made his way over to the cafeteria. There he made Molly and himself a cup of the caffeinated liquid, which he carefully carried down back to the morgue. He approached Molly's back and cleared his throat slightly.

Molly quickly finished scribbling down on her paper, and turned, taking in the scene in front of her, looking rather surprised. It was true, Sherlock rarely would help others with something as mundane as coffee, however, he knew that Molly was tired, and he reminded himself of all the times Molly had gotten him coffee, even when he asked rudely. This was the least he could do.

"Coffee?" He asked, handing it to her. Molly accepted.

"Thank you." She muttered lightly. She looked up at him with confused eyes and gratefully taking the warm beverage, taking a long sip. She closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation.

"Perfect. Really thank you." She said again, Sherlock merely nodded at her.

Sitting down next to her, he took a drink of his own coffee. It wasn't as good as what they had at home, but it was bearable. Molly tucked the final bit of paperwork into the folder, and turned to Sherlock.

"How's the liver experiment?" She asked, putting the files into a large filing cabinet.

"Excellent. John was complaining about the smells though." Molly laughed lightly, and Sherlock felt his spirits rise. Her laugh was such a nice natural sound.

Stop it. Sherlock forced himself to stop thinking such things.

"Well I'm sure he's seen worse. Ready to go?" She asked, grabbing her things. Sherlock nodded, and Molly turned out the lights, locking the door behind her.

They walked in silence through the halls, until Sherlock spoke up.

"Would you like to order take out and go back to the flat? I need something to entertain me for a bit, or else I'll start shooting the walls and John will get angry." Sherlock asked. Molly smiled at him and rolled her eyes.

"If it will spare your wallpaper, okay." She answered, Sherlock nodded, trying to fight the growing smile on his face.

* * *

It was around 7:00 when Molly and Sherlock were finished eating their Chinese take out, and it was around 7:00 also when John walked into 221b Baker Street, sporting a bright smile.

"Hello you two!" He said brightly taking off his jacket and sitting down in his favorite armchair.

"That was a long lunch break." Molly commented, gathering all the cardboard boxes around her and taking them into the kitchen/lab.

John waited until Molly came back and sat on the sofa until he answered her.

"Well, we finished lunch, and she wanted to get to know the city better, so I showed her around." John answered, shrugging.

"We ordered you extra food if you're hungry." Molly said, accepting John's answer for now. She knew later she would get the full coverage of the day from Mary.

"No, Mary and I already ate." John answered, going over to the small desk and opening his laptop.

"Well," Molly sighed, getting up and grabbing her jacket, "I better get going, I can't leave Mary alone too long in the apartment, last time she dressed poor Toby up in my clothes."

John laughed from his seat, and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Bye Sherlock! Thanks for dinner, Bye John." Molly called, closing the door behind her.

10 minutes later she was back, standing in front of her apartment door. From behind, she could hear suspicious noises, and music. Molly sighed, resting her head against the door. _Dear god what was Mary up to now_? She wondered, and finally Molly bravely opened the door, bracing herself for what was inside.

Mary was running around the apartment, in a ridiculous set of bubblegum pink pajamas, dancing to a familiar song.

"MOLLS! YOU'LL NEVER GUESS THE DAY I HAD!" She yelled over the music, Molly quickly came in, and shut the door, before her neighbors called the cops on them. She briskly walked over to the stereo, and turned it down.

"I know what you did, John told me." Molly laughed, taking off her jacket and grabbing a drink of water, Mary pouted.

"He did?_ I_ wanted to tell you!" Mary complained, hopping up and sitting on the counter.

"Don't worry, he didn't go into details, you can still tell me all about it." Molly stated. Mary brightened.

"Good!" She exclaimed, kicking her feet to the beat of the music. Molly frowned.

"What are you listening to?" Molly asked, walking over to the stereo, Mary followed.

"I got bored, so I went through some of your things, and I found our old CD from uni!" Mary beamed. Molly chose to ignore the fact that Mary went through her things, and picked up the CD. Molly laughed when she saw all the songs that were on the CD, written in pink gel pen in Mary's handwriting.

"So where were you all day today? Finishing autopsies?" Mary asked, Molly went over to the kettle to start the tea.

"I finished around 5:30, then Sherlock asked if I wanted to get take out and eat at the flat." Molly answered nonchalantly. Mary gasped.

"So like a date?" She clapped, sliding across the wood floors in her socks. Molly sighed.

"No, I get take out with Sherlock and John all the time, it wasn't a date." Mary sighed as well.

"Dear me, oh well, how about you dance it out with me? Huh?" Mary smiled cheekily at her friend, poking her stomach. Molly giggled fighting her hands away.

And so they danced, and sat up talking about the wonderful day Mary had with John, visiting parks and different landmarks London had to offer. They both squealed excitedly when Mary dished out that John had asked her for her number. Eventually they both went in for bed. Molly tucked herself in, and shut off the lights, trying, and failing to think of anything other than a certain consulting detective, and the strange gesture of kindness he had done for her today, by getting her a cup of coffee.

It was so unlike him, usually it was her getting them coffee, not the other way around, although she supposed he probably just did it because he was bored and needed something to do. Whatever the reason, it was greatly appreciated, Molly mused, finally sinking into sleep.

* * *

**So what did you think? Let me know in reviews, they motivate me and turn me into a writing machine! Also, you get a cyber cupcake, I made them myself *winks at you all* **  
**Anyway, hoped you liked the chapter! Review, favourite and follow!**

**_~Ellie_**


	3. A New Trend

**Hello everyone! First I'd like to say WOW! Thank you thank you thank you. It's barely been 1 day and already I have 7 reviews, 2 favourites, and 15 follows! I can't thank you enough, and because of all of my wonderful fans, I got motivated to make another chapter! I had a lot of fun with this one, because it's all Mary and John! (There's like a short little bit of Molly, but other than that.) For this first few chapters, I'm just kind of giving the relationships a kick start, but I have drama planned, and it's coming soon! Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Dr. Mary Morstan sat down in her chair, humming with appreciation. Today had been her first day as a doctor here at St. Bart's, and while it was tiring work, Mary loved every second of it. She always knew she wanted to be doctor, even at the young age at five, when she once purposely pushed her brother down on the pavement so he would get a scrape, and she could treat it.

Today she had had a variety of patients, most of them all just had little end of the winter colds, nothing too bad, one child however had an ear infection, the poor sod.

It was 3:30 and almost time for her to go back to Molly's for the day. She was only taking short shifts at the hospital to start, until she got used to the flow of things here. So far all of her colleagues had been kind to her, particularly an older man named Jack Hicks who was in a way showing Mary the ropes.

So Mary shut off all the lights in her office, and shut the door behind her, preparing to leave the artificial lights of the hospital and go out into the slushy pre spring London, when her phone stopped her.

Mary's ring tone rang through the empty halls, and she quickly dug into her mess of a bag and grabbed it, not bothering to check who was calling.

"Hello?" She asked, walking down the hall slowly, phone pressed to her ear.

"Hello, is this Mary?" A familiar voice asked. Mary smiled brightly.

"Who?" She asked, trying not to laugh. She just couldn't resist playing with him a bit.

"Oh… I'm sorry, I thought… I must have the wrong number." John muttered, about to hang up, when Mary's laugh stopped him.

"Yes it's me John, I'm sorry I couldn't resist." Mary giggled lightly, and John laughed too.

"Good, we're not one minute in and I'm already acting like a right idiot." John joked.

"Is there something you needed, Dr. Watson?" Mary asked, innocently, she knew why he was calling.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight? I know it's short notice, but I need to get out of this flat, Sherlock is driving me crazy." He asked her, sounding hopeful. Mary was about to tell him yes, when her face fell. Damn it to all hell.

"I would love to John, but I just remembered that I'm going to look at an apartment today, I've already set it up with the owner." Mary explained, extremely disappointed.

"Oh, that's okay, maybe another time then." Mary nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She was preparing to say her goodbyes when an idea struck her.

"Wait a moment! Why don't you come look at the flat with me? I could use the company, it's probably going to be dreadfully boring." She asked, stopping by the entrance doors of St. Bart's.

"Sounds great! Where's the flat?" John asked.

"It's actually a only a few minutes from Molly's, on some street called Oak Street." Mary exclaimed, getting excited.

"Okay, how about I meet you at Molly's and we can walk down?" John asked, Mary smiled and brought a hand up to her mouth, trying to stop the girlish giggles from exploding out.

"Ok! It's a date." Mary said.

"It's a date." John replied. Mary could hear the smile in his voice.

"Okay, my appointment is at 5, so meet me at Molls at about 4:45?" Mary asked.

"Good for me! See you then, bye Mary."  
"Bye John." Mary smiled, putting her phone back, and practically skipping out into the damp air, happier than ever.

* * *

Molly sat in her favorite armchair in her apartment, reading one of her favorite books, Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. Her fingers trailed lovingly over the old crinkled pages. She had been in possession of this book since she was 7 years old. She remembered how her Mum used to read it to her before bed.

She was brought out of her tranquil reading by a loud thump followed by a curse. Molly rolled her eyes. Mary was hurriedly getting ready for her date with John, because she had left getting ready till the last minute, getting distracted by an episode of Doctor Who on the telly.

"Well, how do I look?" Mary asked, waltzing out of her temporary bedroom, and twirling in a circle for Molly to inspect. Mary was wearing plain tan pants and a sage green jumper, which went nicely with her blonde hair and eyes.

"Perfect, nice and casual for a house viewing date." Molly commented, smiling at Mary, Mary put a thoughtful face on.

"I've never heard of a house viewing date, I wonder if John and I are starting a trend?" Mary asked, falling down onto the couch and curling up.

"I'm sure you are, I bet you by next month, everyone will be doing it." Molly mocked, rolling her eyes and returning to her book.

* * *

Mary sat waiting for John to show up. She pretended to watch the telly, when she was really eyeing the clock. 4:46. Mary tapped her foot. She wasn't a very patient woman. She looked back at the clock. Still 4:46, when would he-

A loud knocking cut off Mary's train of thought. Molly looked up from her book and gave Mary a knowing smile. Mary jumped up and eagerly opened the door. There stood John, in a red jumper and jeans, smiling at her.

"Ready to go?" He asked, offering her his hand. Mary beamed at him, and grabbed her purse.

"Molly! We're going now!" She yelled, Molly came round the corner and smiled at them, book in hand.

"Have fun kids, don't get too rowdy, and John I want her home by 10, you hear me?" Molly joked, acting like a father would. John mock saluted her.

"Yes sir." The girls laughed.

"Ok, bye guys." Molly laughed.

"Bye Molls." Mary said, closing the door behind her and John, but not before throwing Molly a wink.

* * *

The two of them had a lovely walk. It was grey and dismal, but the conversation was lovely. John shared some of his uni experiences, and a little bit about what it was like solving cases with Sherlock.

Mary told him about her first time sewing someone up in University, and what it was like growing up with Molly. All the while, their hands were clasped together between them.

Eventually, they reached the flat together, where the real estate lady was wearing. John and Mary shared a humorous look when they saw her. The lady had drastic drawn on eyebrows and was wearing the most appalling shade of bright pink eye shadow, to match her lipstick. When the two looked at each other, they couldn't help but giggle.

The flat they were seeing was on Oak Street, a small little street that had a café, a bookshop, and a gift shop on it. The remainder of the street was all apartments. The apartments were paired together in twos, and were all two stories. Every apartment building was identical, except they were all different colors. Mary's possible flat, 56 Oak Street, was a nice greyish blue color.

They walked inside, and Mary gasped, squeezing John's hand a little tighter. She loved it already, and they were only in the foyer. The flooring was carpet in some places, wood in the others, and the walls were all covered in dark blue wall paint. It had lots of space, and would look very nice with some furniture, Mary decided.

"Now, the upstairs is very nice, with a big master bedroom and bath, and one guest room for any bundles of joy that may be arriving soon." The real estate agent said, emphasizing the soon and looking at John and Mary's clasped hands. Mary blushed deeply, as did John.

They looked through the rest of the apartment, and Mary decided that she must have it. She discussed the details with the woman. The rent was reasonable, definitely something she could afford.

"I'll take it." Mary confirmed, nodding her head at the woman.

"Are you sure? We could look at other properties you know." The woman prodded, Mary shook her head, looking over at John.

"I'm 100 percent sure."

* * *

Mary took a seat at the little café on Oak Street, and John sat across from her.

"That flat was really nice." John said, taking off his coat.

"I know, and it was only the second one I've looked at!" Mary said.

"What was the first one like?" John asked, clasping his hands together on the table.

"I didn't even consider it, the previous owner had owned a lot of cats, and let's just say they preferred the carpet to the litter box." Mary commented. John laughed.

Together they ate and chat, until the conversation came up to their friends.

"So, I've read on your blog, but what did you really think of Sherlock when you first met him?" Mary questioned.

"Honestly, I thought he was an arrogant madman." John answered sipping his tea.

"Ok, so what do you think of him now?"

"Oh he's still an arrogant madman, but he's also my best friend now. So I guess I can put up with it." John smirked, putting down his cup.

"And what about you, how did you and Molly first meet?" John asked.

"It was during the first week of grade seven, the teacher made us partners, and we just sort of clicked. Molly always says that I bring out the more outgoing side of her, I guess it must be true." Mary shrugged.

"So you've been friends all these years?" John remarked in a surprised tone.

"We have, we've had our fights, but I just love Molly to bits, I always cave in and forgive her, or beg her to forgive me. It may seem hard to believe, but she's incredibly stubborn." Mary said, stirring her coffee.

"Oh I believe it. Sherlock told me that while he was living with Molly for a while, all battered up from, well from the fall, she wouldn't let him have any painkillers for half a day because he was being rude to her." John said, smiling. Mary snickered.

"Oh that sounds like Molly alright. When you first meet her, she seems shy, but as soon as you get close to her, you see that she's really quite headstrong."

John nodded. "Sherlock's like that. When you first meet him he can seem like a cocky arse, but he's actually quite considerate, under all of that arrogance."

"He really didn't seem to like my brother the other day." Mary commented.

"I know, he was complaining about him in the cab, until I told him that your brother was gay, then he just seemed fine with him." Mary listened to John say this, her eyes brightening as she listened.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed, banging her fists on the table.

"You knew what?" John asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"After Sherlock stormed out that day and you left, Peter said it looked as if Sherlock was jealous of his and Molly's relationship, thinking Peter liked Molly. Of course Molly immediately put down that theory, but he must've been jealous, if he was okay with Peter once he knew he was gay!" Mary ranted, smiling brightly. John smirked at her.

"You know, that's honestly what I thought too, I just didn't dare mention it to him. Sherlock get's touchy when I prod him about romance."

"Has he ever had any girlfriends at all?" Mary inquired, taking a bite of her muffin.

"No, not for as long as I've known him. The closest he got to a girlfriend was Irene Adler, but she's gone now. Besides, I think that was just an infatuation." John commented.

"Hm." Mary mused.

Eventually, they moved on to different topics, until it was nearing 8 o clock.

"Well, I should get back to Molly's, start packing for my big move!" Mary said, grabbing her coat and standing up.

"I'll walk you back." John said.

The walk back was spent in compatible silence, walking through the streets of London at dusk, it seemed like no words needed to be said. When they reached the front of Molly's apartment building, Mary stopped and turned to John.

"Thanks for coming tonight John. Looking at flats is much more fun when you're involved." Mary muttered. John gave her a kind smile, causing her heartbeat to quicken.

"I'm glad you invited me." John murmured. They stood for a moment, looking at one another. Who was going to make the first move?

_Oh to hell with it_, Mary thought, cupping John's face lightly and leaning in, giving him a quick kiss. It wasn't long, she merely pressed her lips to his for a moment, but she still felt fireworks. She reluctantly let go of John and went to the door.

"Goodnight John!" She called over her shoulder. John gave her a crooked smile.

"Night Mary." He said, just loud enough for her to hear, and started walking back down the street, towards 221B no doubt. Mary watched him for a bit, before pushing the glass doors open, taking the steps two at a time to go tell Molly about her wonderful flat viewing date with Dr. John Watson.

* * *

**Okay! So, what did you think? I'm actually loving to write for Mary, she's just so sassy and bold and fun! So, review if you liked it, loved it, hated it, I don't mind, I love feedback, plus... if you review, well... *pushes plate of delicious cookies and cupcakes towards you* I think you get my meaning. Anyway! Thanks for reading and reviewing! I love you all! **

**_~Ellie_**


	4. Messy flats and Bossiness

**Hello again everyone. I know this may sound silly, but I feel like I may be updating too much! Eep! *hides in corner* i'm sorry if you guys are finding it hard to keep up! It's just that you're excellent reviews are making me so happy and motivated, not to mention I have no life and all the time in the world to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a longer one, but I really really like this one, because it has a bossy Molly in it, sexual jokes and some Sherlock POV in it near the ending! Before I go though, I'd just like to address some of my reviews I've been getting**

**1. *Takes all of the personal Benedict Cumberbatches, packages them, and mails them all to my lovely reviewers and followers.* Thank you! **

**2. I've had some comments made on John and Mary from all of you lovely reviewers! This is mainly a Sherlolly fic, but from time to time I may throw in some Jomary (I made a ship name *fist pumps*) from time to time, because I love them so much! **

**3. I threw in the part about Molly reading little women because I'm just starting to read it, and it is fabulous! You all don't notice because you don't know me, but sometimes I'll throw little pieces of my personality into the story (for example, they all drink tea and coffee so much because I mainly live off the stuff) **

**4. Just another thank you to those who take the time to review. I haven't gotten a negative one yet! I love you all! *Awkwardly goes in for a hug but then pulls out at the last second and dances around you instead***

**Enjoy! (sorry for the big intro)**

* * *

While John and Mary had been on the interesting date, Molly was also, having what you could call, an interesting date.

She had been curled up, trying to muster the will to make supper, when her landline broke the silence of the still apartment, kicking the blankets off of her, Molly ran to the kitchen and looked at caller ID. It was the landline of 221B Baker Street. Molly's heart beat a little faster, thinking it might be Sherlock, but no, Sherlock didn't call, he only texted, and John was out. So who was it?

"Hello?" Molly greeted.

"Molly dear, is that you." Mrs. Hudson asked, sounding quite worried.

"Yes Mrs. Hudson. Is something wrong?" Molly asked, starting to pace.

"Well, yes. You see, the boys haven't had a case for so long, and you know how Sherlock's like when he doesn't have something to do. He just finished that bloody experiment with the liver, and now… well, he's having a bit of a tantrum, and John's gone and I don't know what to do." Mrs. Hudson ranted. In the background, Molly heard a crash, and the sound of Sherlock yelling.

"Oh no. I'll be right over." Molly muttered, cringing as another crash sounded through the phone.

"Please do, before he destroys that apartment!" Mrs. Hudson fretted. Molly sighed and hung up, quickly changing from sweats to jeans, she grabbed her coat and purse, and headed out, hailing a cab and heading directly to Baker Street.

She approached the door that said 221B carefully, and went in, where Mrs. Hudson was waiting.

"I think there was an explosion. I'm to frightened to look." Mrs. Hudson said, wringing her hands.

"Oh you shouldn't be afraid Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock would never hurt you." Molly murmured, consoling the poor woman.

"I'm not worried about that, I'm scared to see what he's done to that _flat_!" Mrs. Hudson stated. Molly quickly ran up the steps, and opened the flats door.

Molly was stopped in her tracks when she saw the mess inside. Now, 221b was always messy, but this, this was chaos. There were papers everywhere, things tossed about. Even Sherlock's skull was tipped over on its side, grinning evilly at her as she observed the mess Sherlock had created.

Molly hesitantly stepped into the flat, and turned into the kitchen. Sherlock was sitting on the counter, with his hands folded under his chin, staring at the stove in front of him, which had a pot of some unknown smoking liquid on it.

Sherlock hadn't noticed her yet, so Molly cleared her throat, to which he looked up, surprised.

"Ah Molly, excellent, I don't suppose you could get me a horse heart could you?" He asked, looking to her expectantly. Molly gave Sherlock a look, and his face fell.

"I didn't think so. Blast. I guess I'm going to have to start another experiment." He sighed, turning of the burner and grabbing the pot, dumping its contents into the sink. The sink made a slight garble of protest.

"Sherlock… _what_ was that?" Molly asked leaning over the sink cautiously.

"I was done testing with the liver, so I wanted to see how it would react to certain chemicals. That was a mixture of milk, bleach, urine, various household cleaners and salt water. My findings were quite interesting, I wanted to test a heart as well, hence why I asked for the horses heart." Sherlock explained walking about the flat, knocking things over on his way.

"Well why not use a human heart, I could try and get that for you." Molly asked, putting back the things he was tipping over as she followed him.

"I've already tested that on a human heart before." Sherlock said in his monotone voice, Molly sighed deeply, wondering how on earth she could calm Sherlock down. And then there was the apartment, that definitely needed to be cleaned before John came home, or else he would have fit. Suddenly Molly got an idea, it wasn't a particularly good one, but it was an idea.

"Sherlock?" Molly called, Sherlock turned, his dressing gown swooshing about behind him.

"Yes?"

"We need to clean the flat."

Sherlock scoffed. "No. I'm not wasting my energy on flat cleaning Molly." Molly sighed.

"Oh well, I did have something I was going to offer you for your help today, but I guess not." Molly sighed, grabbing her things and slowly making her way to the door.

There was a moment of silence as she turned the handle, and for a second Molly wondered if she had properly baited him, but then Sherlock spoke up.

"What… did you have?" Sherlock asked, stepping over the mess on the floor and closer to Molly. Molly smiled and turned.

"Well, a man recently died, I have to do his autopsy tomorrow, I asked my boss, and he told me I could give you some of his body parts, eyes, skin, toes, his heart." Molly explained, her hand still resting on the door handle. Sherlock scoffed again and waved his hand, signaling for her to leave.

"I can get ordinary body parts from you any day Molly." Sherlock stated turning again, and starting to walk towards John's bedroom. Time to bring out the big guns.

"He was an _albino_." Molly said, stopping Sherlock in his tracks. Sherlock stood there for a moment, clearly weighing his options, before slowly turning around to face her.

"An albino?" He asked, clarifying. Molly nodded. Sherlock had told her on many occasions how much he wanted to test on an albino's body parts, making her promise that if an albino ever came into the morgue, she would tell him right away.

"Molly, you know, you're hair has never looked nicer I think, and I believe that blue compliments your comple-"

"Don't even think about it Sherlock. That's _not_ going to work." Molly said, rolling her eyes. In the past two years she'd become immune to Sherlock's flattery. Sherlock pouted, giving her a pleading face. Molly's strength wavered… but no. She needed to get this apartment clean, and she certainly wasn't going to do it herself.

"Sherlock, you either help me clean this apartment, and I mean _thoroughly_ clean it, or I leave right now and _never_ give you any part of the albino." Molly stated, tightening her grip on the door handle. Sherlock gave her the face for a moment more, before relenting, falling on the couch in a heap.

"Fine." He spoke into the cushions. Molly smiled triumphantly.

"Good, now go put some clothes on, we're going to have to go to the store and get some cleaner." Molly ordered, sitting down in John's chair. Sherlock groaned and lifted his face from the cushion.

"And why would we need to do that? Aren't you torturing me enough?" Sherlock whined, Molly narrowed her eyes at him.

"We have to go get cleaner because a certain detective I know used all of it when he was boiling a liver on the stove!" Molly exclaimed, pointing over to the kitchen. Sherlock reluctantly got up, grumbling something about "stubborn women."

* * *

"What about her?" Molly asked, pushing the cart down the isle, indicating her head over to a middle aged woman in a zebra print blouse.

"Recently divorced, went out drinking last night with a friend, spent the night with a stranger and woke up this morning in her house, left and now has come here to buy painkillers, no doubt for the hangover." Sherlock answered rolling his eyes. These were simple deductions, Molly knew, but it was the only way to keep Sherlock busy in the store.

"_Her_ house?" Molly whispered, raising her eyebrows.

"That's what I said." Sherlock grumbled. Molly stopped in front of the cleaner section, grabbing miscellaneous cleaners, and dumping them into the tiny cart she'd gotten.

"While we're here, is there anything else you two need?" Molly asked, turning to Sherlock.

"Milk." Sherlock drawled, obviously bored.

So they went and got two cartons of milk, and Sherlock paid for their items at the checkout. Molly hailed a cab and they returned to 221b Baker Street, and back to the flat.

"Well." Molly said, putting down her bags and looking around. "Let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

2 hours later and 221b was nearly all clean. Molly had gotten Sherlock to put everything back in it's rightful place, while she scrubbed away the mess he'd made in the kitchen 'experimenting.'

Then she swept the floors, and Sherlock helped her mop them. After that, they both just tidied things. Once they were done, the flat looked even better than it had before. Molly had to admit, she felt very proud of her work.

"Now," Molly said, wiping off a small table, "you_ have_ to promise me that you wont tear this place apart again, at least not as bad as you did today. You'll give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack."

"And if I do tear this place apart?" Sherlock asked, idly plucking the strings of his violin.

"No albino eyes for you." Molly stated, putting her hands on her hips. Sherlock smiled up at her.

"The albino should keep me occupied until I'm lucky enough and someone gets murdered again." Sherlock mused.

"There's the spirit!" Molly beamed; mocking him slightly, Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. Molly grabbed the cleaners and put them under the sink, returning to sit on the couch beside Sherlock.

"You know, you would make a very good mother Molly." Sherlock said suddenly. Molly, for some unknown reason, blushed at this.

"And what makes you say that Sherlock?" Molly murmured.

"I believe withholding a desired object to get something you want is a technique mother's use, is it not? It's something my mother practiced frequently with me." Sherlock stated, looking over at her. Molly laughed.

"I suppose it is. Your mother sounds like a smart woman." Molly laughed.

"She is, it's a wonder that Mycroft turned out so dull." Sherlock said, causing Molly to giggle.

"You're too hard on your brother Sherlock." Molly scolded playfully. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Tea?" Molly asked, walking over to the kitchen.

"_Coffee_." Sherlock answered.

* * *

John walked into 221b with a feeling of dread. He had spent a spectacular evening with Mary. John smiled as he remembered the kiss she'd surprised him with.

However, in his absence, god knows what Sherlock did to the flat.

When he stepped in, Mrs. Hudson was waiting for him.

"Oh _god_, what did he do?" John groaned. Mrs. Hudson shook her head.

"He was throwing a fit shortly after you left, I didn't know what to do, so I called in Molly." She explained.

"_Molly_?" John asked.

"Molly. She arrived and he quieted down a little. Then they left the flat briefly, and came back after about 20 minutes. They've been up there for two hours now. I don't know what they're doing, but I wasn't going to go inspect it for fear I'd break the quiet and set him off again!" Mrs. Hudson ranted.

"Well," John sighed. "Let's go and check it out, shall we?" Together, he and Mrs. Hudson walked up the stairs, and stood outside the door to the flat, eyeing each other. John put his hand on the doorknob, and turned, opening the door to the no doubt absolute wreck that lied within.

John and Mrs. Hudson stood, gaping. John even blinked a couple of times to make sure it was real. It was. Mrs. Hudson gasped. His flat was clean, immensely so, and Sherlock was sitting in his chair, changed into clothes, eating with Molly and talking. He looked calm, not completely, but somewhat calm. The conversation stopped and both Sherlock and Molly turned to John and Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh! There you are Mrs. Hudson! And John! How was your date with Mary huh?" Molly asked, grinning cheekily. John just stood there dumbfounded. He had lived with Sherlock for years now, and he had never gotten him to calm down this much when he didn't have a case to work on.

"Would you two like something to eat? We ordered take out from that restaurant down the street." Molly asked, gesturing to the food in the paper bags in front of her.

"How… in _bloody hell_, did you calm him down?" John asked, stepping into his very clean apartment.

"She used a parenting technique." Sherlock said simply, confusing John even more than he already was. Molly gave Sherlock a smile and turned to John.

"I told our favourite detective here that if he didn't cooperate, he wouldn't get to play with an albino's body parts." Normal people who didn't know Sherlock or understand him would be confused about this, but John nodded.

So, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Sherlock and John all sat down and ate the takeout, Molly prodded John for information about his date, Sherlock talked about what kinds of experiments he was going to do on the albino's eyes, and Mrs. Hudson told Molly if she wanted to she could live at 221b forever.

"Well, I better go, Mary will no doubt be wondering where I am, waiting to spill all the juicy details." Molly sighed, standing up and winking at John, who in turn blushed.

"Goodbye dear, you can come back anytime you want to." Mrs. Hudson said, grabbing Molly's hands, and looking at her pleadingly. Molly chuckled.

"I will." She assured, John stood up and followed her to the door.

"I have no idea how you managed not to strangle him, but thank you. Now I know who to call when he goes off on a tangent." John said, patting Molly's arm.

"Well, you may have lived with him, but I had him cooped up in my apartment for two months, during which he had no cases and was barely allowed to leave. After surviving that, today was a walk in the park." Molly smiled, looking fondly over at the consulting detective, who was sipping his coffee and researching albino's in preparation.

"Bye Sherlock!" Molly called. Sherlock looked up from the laptop screen, and gave Molly a genuine smile.

"Goodbye Molly." He said, they kept eye contact for a moment, before Sherlock looked down again at his computer. Molly smiled fondly at him for a few more seconds, waved to John, and closed the door behind her.

John stood at the door, thinking over the exchange he had just witnessed. Back when he had first met Molly, she had seemed like a meek, and shy woman. She also seemed completely star struck by Sherlock, whereas the detective barely paid attention to her, and if he did, it was only when he wanted something.

Now though, Molly was apparently confident enough and strong willed enough to take on the ever childish and hard to deal with Sherlock Holmes, and Sherlock, in turn, seemed to genuinely enjoy her company. For the first time since he had met Sherlock, (excluding the woman) John felt as if Sherlock could possibly harbor feelings for a woman, and possibly not just feelings of friendship, but maybe, just maybe, something more.

John shook his head. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on between his flat mate and Molly Hooper.

* * *

"So I was like 'eh fuck it', and kissed him!" Mary exclaimed excitedly. Molly laughed at her friend's bold personality.

"Well, I'm glad everything worked out for you darling, and the apartment sounds lovely." Molly said, snuggling in deeper to her bed. When Mary had come home, she had immediately bombarded her friend with stories from her day. So the two girls had made some tea, put on their pajamas and sat on Molly's bed together, and Mary told the full story, start to finish, not excluding even one detail.

"Oh the flat is very lovely. I knew from the moment I saw it, I had to have it." Mary sighed, sipping her chamomile tea.

"I thought we were talking about the flat, not Dr. Watson!" Molly teased. Mary rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

"It just needs some sprucing up, and then it will be perfect." Mary sighed.

"Of course you'll need to buy some furniture." Molly added.

"Oh, we're back to the flat? I was talking about John." Mary laughed, turning the joke around on Molly. Molly gasped.

"You're terrible." She giggled. Once they had calmed down, Mary got down to business.

"So Miss Hooper, where were you all day today?" Mary questioned, arching an eyebrow at her best friend.

"Oh god. Mrs. Hudson called me today. Sherlock had himself in a tantrum, so I went over there and calmed him down." Molly explained.

"Calmed him down did you? Mhm." Mary commented, giving Molly a sly grin. Molly guffawed.

"Not like that you git! Why must you turn everything into something dirty?" Molly asked, exasperated.

"Because the dirtier it is, the more fun it is." Mary shrugged, winking at Molly.

"Speaking of dirty, you should have seen the flat today. Sherlock had it torn apart, we spent most of our day cleaning it up."

"More like you spent most of your day adding to the dirty, dirty mess!" Mary giggled, effectively dodging Molly's swat.

"I don't know why I even bother with you, honestly." Molly sighed, trying to be serious, however, she couldn't fight the few giggles that escaped.

"Because you love me." Mary smiled, taking a long sip from her tea.

"Yes, I have no idea why I do though." Molly said, smiling back.

"You know, John and I talked about you and Sherlock today…" Mary said, looking down into her almost empty mug.

"What now?" Molly asked, fearing the worst.

"Well, I simply commented that Sherlock didn't seem to like my brother, and John told me that Sherlock had complained about him in the cab, but as soon as John told him Pete was gay, Sherlock calmed down and didn't have a problem with him." Mary retold, getting excited.

"And I should care about this why?" Molly asked, trying to remain casual. Mary gave Molly a look that told her she didn't believe her bullshit.

"Because, this proves he was jealous. If he disliked Pete for another reason other than the fact that he hugged you, then him being gay wouldn't have mattered! But as soon as he found out Peter was gay, it eliminated him as a possible threat, therefore Sherlock had no problem with him anymore!" Mary explained.

"For the last time, Sherlock and I are friends! Nothing more." Molly said, refusing to let herself hope.

"Uh huh, and why do you sound disappointed about that Miss. Hooper." Mary commented, shifting so she sat cross-legged.

"I'm not." Molly defended.

"Yes you are. You want Sherlock Holmes to make sweet sweet love to you! Just admit it!" Mary exclaimed.

"Ok, perhaps if Sherlock did have feelings for me, genuine romantic feelings, I would maybe consider approaching a relationship with him. He doesn't though, and never will, so it doesn't matter and makes for no reason to fawn over him." Molly stated, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Then why is he jealous?" Mary countered.

"Maybe he's attracted to me, I don't know. Still, simple attraction is in no way the kind of feelings I'd want."

"But those kind of feelings always start with attraction." Mary said in a singsong voice, not giving up.

Molly sighed, deeply. "I don't know how he feels for me Mary, the only thing I do know is that I don't want to hope too much. I'm finally at a comfortable spot regarding my relationship with Sherlock, and I don't want to jeopardize it by starting to fangirl over him again. Remember where that got me?" Molly stated, eyeing her friend, who finally gave a relenting nod.

"Okay, I see your point. All I'm saying is you shouldn't rule him out completely. I just have this feeling that there's something going on here." Mary explained.

"I'll think about it, okay darling? Does that satisfy you?" Molly asked.

"No, but it will do for now. Goodnight Molls." Mary said, grabbing her teacup and walking out of Molly's bedroom.

"Goodnight Mary." Molly murmured.

* * *

Sherlock shut his laptop, and looked around the flat. It really did look nice, although he would never admit it. The only mess that was left was John's teacup he had left behind when he'd gone up to bed, leaving Sherlock alone with his computer… and his thoughts.

Today… Molly had surprised him. She had been so assertive, not taking no for an answer, and had handled the situation quite well, if he did say so himself. Sherlock had no allusions; he knew he was hard to deal with when he was bored. He couldn't help it though, when his brain had nothing to solve or work on, he felt as if he was going insane.

Sherlock would be lying if he said he didn't like the assertive and bossy side of Molly. He complained about it, but on the inside, he found it to be… appealing. Yes, that was the right word. Again he couldn't help but notice the drastic difference between the shy and mousy pathologist from a couple of years ago, and Molly Hooper, the woman who wouldn't take no for an answer.

Sherlock thought back to the compliments he had thrown at her, trying to get out of cleaning. He had told her that her hair had looked nice, and that the shirt she was wearing complimented her. Molly had written those off as complete lies, just Sherlock trying to manipulate her again, however, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Okay, he had been trying to manipulate her, he admitted to that, but those compliments, weren't lies. Her hair did look nice, she had worn it in a loose ponytail, and it had looked very… pretty in the light of the apartment, which had brought out the natural blonde pieces in her normally straightforward brown hair. And the blue shirt he had worn had gone very nicely with her pale skin. Yes, he had been telling the full truth with those compliments, and it actually bothered him a little that Molly hadn't believed him.

Sherlock groaned lightly, and covered his face with his hands. He might as well admit it. He was attracted to Molly Hooper. Sherlock Holmes found Molly Hooper attractive.

The real question was, why did this unsettle him so much? He had found women attractive before, and despite what his brother may believe, he was no stranger to sexual practices and women in general. Yes, he had found a few women attractive before, Irene Adler, to name one, but the difference was, with these women, he had had no trouble admitting it. So why did it bother him so much to admit that he found Molly attractive.

Maybe it was the fact that he found Molly the most attractive of all the women he'd seen.

Even though this was true, Sherlock was confused by it. The women that he had noticed before had all been significantly more attractive than Molly according to societies views. But in Sherlock's eyes, all of them lacked something Molly somehow possessed. But what was that, exactly?

Sherlock sighed, and decided that such thoughts were for another time, he needed to sleep, if he was to have all of his energy for tomorrow when he studied the Albino's body parts. And so, Sherlock went upstairs, got prepared for bed, and drifted off into sleep, forcing himself not to think of how attractive Molly had been when she had forced him to go to the store with her.

* * *

**Sooooooo? What did you think? Wait wait! Before you tell me, I'd just like to say something regarding my head-canons (in case you don't know, head-canons are things you believe about a character that isn't exactly stated in the show or book or movie or whatever)**

**So, in my head, I don't see Sherlock as a virgin. It's okay and everything if you do, that's just not the way I see him myself. **

**Also, I like to think Sherlock likes it when Molly's bossy. *winks at you***

**Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this one as much as I did, I think this is my favourite chapter so far, probably because of all the sassy ladies in it. Anyway, I'm planning for things to start heating up in the next few chapters! Which I think I'm going to write right now. It's only 12:34am over here in Canada, and I need to get my feels out into a word document! Anyway, review, favourite, and follow! Goodnight!**

**~Ellie**

**P.S. Before I forget, all my reviewers get treats. *Pushes huge plateful of cakes, cupcakes, cookies towards you, then pushes separate bowl full of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups towards you, then sticks a peanut allergy sign in front of them, so I don't get sued.***

**P.P.S. Speaking of being sued...**

**I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters, (except for my fabulous personalized Mary of course) **

**P.P.P.S Sorry for the big ending announcement thingy... **


	5. Easter Arguments

**Greetings everybody! This took a little longer to update because I believe it may be the longest chapter yet, it sure felt like it. Also, it's EASTER! Ok, I know I know, Easter was a couple months ago, but this story started right at the start of March, and I wanted a bit of time to pass and I wanted a holiday! So boom, Easter. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, I actually really love it! Also, a big thank you goes out to all my reviewers, followers and favouriters (that's not even a word) You're all amazing and I want to give you each a huge hug, *awkwardly hugs computer***

**Okay, so in this chapter we have dinners, family, gossiping and a flashback scene! :OOO The flashback goes to the time when Molly had Sherlock living with her after the fall.**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

The blaring of her alarm clock woke Molly up. Sighing, she lifted her head just enough so she could navigate in the early morning light, and shut it off, flumping back onto her pillow, she drifted back to sleep.

The next sound to wake Molly up was the sound of someone in her kitchen, walking around. Molly slowly got out of bed and stuck her head out, carefully.

Relief washed through her to see it was only Mary, still in her pajamas, cooking something on the stove. Molly padded out to see what she was up to.

"Excuse me, but couldn't you do this someplace else? Like your own flat maybe?" Molly asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"I… decided to come over here." Mary stated, smiling and avoiding Molly's eye contact as she scrambled what Molly could now see were eggs in a frying pan.

"Oh god, _what happened_?" Molly asked, wondering what Mary could've gotten herself into now.

"I went on a date with John last night." Mary said, slowly. Molly nodded with exasperation.

"Yeah, I know. Your big fancy Easter dinner date. You made me go shopping for a dress with you, remember?"

"Well, after our date, which was fantastic, by the way, I went back to 221b for _coffee_…" Mary retold, placing the scrambled eggs on two plates for her and Molly.

"_Coffee_…" Molly said, starting to put the pieces together.

"Sherlock was _gone_…" Mary stated, giving Molly a look. Molly gasped.

"You didn't."

Mary beamed at her. "No, _I_ didn't."

"Oh," Molly frowned.

"_We_, on the other hand, did." Mary giggled, turning to Molly and jumping up and down in excitement. Molly joined in.

Mary and John had gone on many small lunch dates and dinner dates after their first house viewing date in the past few weeks, and now it was March 29, Good Friday, and it looked as if her friend had officially done the deed.

"So you two… you're official now?" Molly asked excitedly, clasping her friend's hands.

"Yes we are." Mary smiled before sticking her hand out to shake Molly's. "Hello, nice to meet you, I'm Mary Morstan, John Watson's _girlfriend_." Molly did a fake bow and shook her hand. The two girls ended up giggling.

"Well, if you had such a great time last night, why are you here at…" Molly checked the clock, "10 in the morning?"

Mary pouted. "John had to go to work at St. Bart's."

"Oh well. You'll just have to have breakfast with me then." Molly said, grabbing bread and popping it in the toaster for her and Mary's breakfast, while Mary dished out a basic overview of what happened last night.

"But wait…" Molly interrupted, putting the kettle on. "You said Sherlock was gone, where is he?" Mary shrugged.

"This may sound surprising, but when I was in the middle of shagging John, my first thought wasn't 'Oh hey where's Sherlock?'" Mary teased, poking Molly in the stomach and grabbing her toast from the toaster.

Together the two friends sat together, and ate a Good Friday breakfast of eggs, toast, tea, fruit, and even some wine. Mary lifted up her wine for a toast.

"To a _very_ Good Friday indeed." She said, winking at Molly from across the table. Molly rolled her eyes and clinked her glass against Mary's.

* * *

The rest of the day was pretty normal for Molly, she went to Bart's, performed a couple autopsies, drank the horrible cafeteria coffee, and filled out her remaining paperwork until she was finally free at 5:30.

Molly scurried home, changed into jeans and a light purple top, grabbed her purse, and ordered take out for four, just in case Sherlock showed up. According to Mary, John had sent Sherlock a text, and he hadn't replied. Molly couldn't help feeling a bit worried about him; it wasn't like him to not let John know where he was, at least.

After she got the takeout, Molly made her way to Baker Street, and entered John and Sherlock's flat, climbing up the many stairs, until she reached the dooe to the main living space. Molly shouldered her bag, and fumbled around a bit awkwardly trying to open the door. Before she could, however, a very enthusiastic and bright Mary opened the door for her.

"I smell food." Mary said simply, grabbing some of the bags out of Molly's hands.

Molly rolled her eyes and followed Mary into the flat, which was cleaner than usual, but not as clean as it had been the time Molly and Sherlock cleaned it together. John was sitting at the dining table, which had been cleared of Sherlock's tests, for once.

"Why _hello_ John." Molly exclaimed, giving John a coy smile and a wink. John groaned.

"You women tell each other everything, don't you?" He asked, turning to Mary, who was putting all of the take out onto plates for the three of them.

"Of course we do. Not all of us have Sherlock's intellect and can figure out someone's life story in seconds." Mary said, handing the plates out.

"Speaking of Sherlock, where is he?" Molly asked, pouring herself a glass of wine.

John shrugged in frustration. "Beats me, it's not unlike him to leave without notice, but he usually let's me know when he's gone for this long." Molly nodded and they all sat down, preparing to eat their food. Just as Molly was about to take her first bite, the sound of the door opening caused her head to snap up.

Not a few seconds later, in walked Sherlock, looking completely healthy and fine. More than fine. He was wearing that dark purple shirt that Molly had always found so attractive on him. He walked in and took the scene before him in. When his eyes found the take out, he immediately marched over to the last bit that was left for him, and put it all on a plate, taking the last seat at the table.

"So where've you been Sherly?" Mary asked, popping a bit of food into her mouth, and using the nickname she had adopted for Sherlock that she knew he hated.

"Not now Mary. My patience has already been tested enough today." Sherlock sighed, taking a long sip of wine. Mary smirked at the detective.

"My my, what's made you so testy?" Mary pried.

"I have just come back from a night spent at my family home outside London." Sherlock explained, starting to eat his food.

"Easter with the Holmes family then?" John asked.

"Hell with the Holmes family, more like." Sherlock grumbled, and everyone looked up in surprise. Sherlock swore sometimes, but not very often.

"Was it that bad?" Molly asked, giving Sherlock a sympathetic smile. Sherlock nodded.

"It was. My mother insisted on it however. The dinner consisted of Mycroft, my Mother, my mother's sister and my grandparents. And my mother repeatedly asked me when I would be 'giving her grandchildren.'" Sherlock groaned, this time, the whole table grimaced with empathy.

"I believe we've all been there my friend." Mary sighed, taking a sip of her wine.

They continued their dinner, drinking wine and laughing until it was almost 10 o clock. Molly looked at the clock in surprise.

"Christ, I should be going." Molly muttered.

"I should be too…" Mary murmured in agreement. Mary was trying to be sneaky about it, but Molly saw the look she gave John from across the table, Molly rolled her eyes. Sherlock seemed to have caught it too, as he gave Molly a questioning look. Molly just shook her head at him.

"Well, John and I are going to go get a cab now." Mary announced standing up. John followed, grabbing his jacket on the way. Together they scurried out the door, throwing hasty goodbyes over their shoulders.

"Do I even want to know?" Sherlock sighed.

"No, probably not." Molly grimaced, giving Sherlock a look, their smiles both grew wider until laughs broke through, Molly giggled uncontrollably at her two silly best friends.

"Well," Molly said, trying to recover from her laughter. "We should probably clean up the kitchen." Sherlock groaned.

"Do we have to?" He grumbled, leaning his forehead against the table.

"_Yes_." Molly stated firmly, leaving no room for objection. Sherlock reluctantly got up.

* * *

Sherlock kept sneaking glances at Molly as he wiped off the counter tops. She was standing in front of the sink, elbow deep in greasy dishwater, and Sherlock still found her attractive. Amazing.

Molly must've felt his stare, because she looked up and caught his gaze, throwing him a crooked half smile; Sherlock smiled back, and dropped his gaze, not wanting to stare too much.

Eventually they were finished, and both he and Molly sat down in the sitting area of 221b with coffees. They sat together in companionable silence, which Molly broke, however, by groaning.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, smiling a little at her over exaggerated groan.

"I really should be going, I have to be up early for work tomorrow, and then I have to go down to Mum's with Mary."

Sherlock frowned, "You're leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah, my Mother and Mary's Mum are having Easter dinner on Sunday, and because I haven't seen my Mum since Christmas, she made me promise I'd spend the weekend with her. Mary has to go too." Molly explained, Sherlock's frown deepened.

He didn't like that at all. Molly would be gone for the whole weekend, and Sherlock found that most unsettling. What unsettled Sherlock even more was the fact that he didn't want Molly to leave because he just wanted access to the morgue. No, he didn't want Molly to leave because he would miss her company. Sherlock would actually miss Molly Hooper. Sherlock thought about that for a moment, before deciding that Molly couldn't leave.

"You can't leave Molly." Sherlock stated, looking her in the eyes, trying to be calm.

Molly tilted her head, causing her hair to fall and catch the light the most distracting way. "Why not?"

Sherlock stared for a moment. "Because I…" He started, contemplating what he should say. He couldn't tell her he would actually miss her, could he? No, Sherlock decided, he couldn't. He could barely handle this information, let alone share it.

"Because I may need your assistance in the morgue." Sherlock said, finally. There, that seemed like a perfectly legitimate reason for why she should stay and why Sherlock would want her to stay. However, as he watched Molly's eyes turn to ice, and her posture turn from relaxed to tense, he made the connection he had probably said the wrong thing.

"Well I'm sorry if my being gone is _inconvenient_ for you, but some of us do have lives you know, outside helping you." Molly glared, slamming her mug on the coffee table and standing up. He definitely said the wrong thing.

"Molly I-"

"NO! Don't you Molly me. I can't always be at your beck and call Sherlock! I'm not just someone you can use for your convenience. How could you be so selfish?" Molly interrupted, grabbing her bag, and opening the door.

"Goodbye Sherlock. And _happy Easter_." Molly seethed, slamming the door shut. Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the door. How could he have been so stupid? Sherlock and Molly were friends now, so of course she would be offended to think the only reason Sherlock wanted her to stay was because he wanted access to the morgue. His comment probably reminded her of how he had been with her before the fall. Sherlock groaned and gently hit his head against the door. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

* * *

Molly picked at her food, only half listening to the conversation going on all around her. It was Easter Sunday and the Hooper-Morstan clan was gathered for a big dinner together, like they had been doing since Molly and Mary were in the 7th grade.

Molly was in the middle of Peter and Mary, facing Mary's father on the other side, who was in the middle of Mary's mother and her own.

She had tried to relax and enjoy this weekend, and some parts she did enjoy. Molly, Peter and Mary had all gone to their favorite restaurant from high school on Saturday, and had gone to the small mall 20 minutes outside of town to window shop. The one thing that was stopping Molly from having a good time was Sherlock.

She had tried to forget what had happened on Friday, but no matter how hard she tried to ignore the problem, her thoughts always drifted back to him.

For a moment, just a moment, Molly had almost thought Sherlock didn't want her to leave because he enjoyed her company. But no, of course his intentions were selfish. They always were. That was just the way Sherlock was, Molly needed to accept that, and stop letting herself think that he might care. Because he didn't care, wouldn't care, and getting her hopes up only made it that much harder when he did something like this.

"Molly!" Molly's mother half yelled from across the table, breaking her from her train of thought.

"Sorry Mum, what were you asking?" Molly sighed, taking a bite of her turkey.

"I was asking you how work was going." Molly's mother said in an exasperated tone.

"Oh. Works fine, same old, same old." Molly answered. Molly's mother turned to Mary.

"And what about you Mary? How's the new job?"

"It's going pretty great, I've just finished fixing my flat up a bit, so it looks more homey… and I have a new boyfriend." Mary finished, smiling cockily. Molly smiled.

"Oh honey! You do? _Who is he_, give me all the details!" Laura, Mary's very enthusiastic mother exclaimed.

"Like oh my god was is love at first sight? Was your first kiss under the moonlight while fireworks exploded? What's your color scheme for the wedding?" Peter mocked, crossing his eyes and speaking in a ridiculous voice. Mary rolled her eyes.

"His name is Dr. John Watson, he's 38 years old, and we've been dating for about a month." Mary explained, taking a sip of her wine and shrugging.

"So he's a doctor?" Mary's father George asked.

"He's a retired army doctor, he works at a clinic part time."

"Wait a minute, why do I recognize that name?" Peter mumbled to himself.

"You met him before, when you two first came to my flat, remember?" Molly said, looking over at Peter.

"Oh yes, he's the one that hangs around with the sexy detective that fancies Molly." Peter smiled, winking at Molly, who was blushing furiously.

"What?" Molly's mum Theresa choked out, staring at her daughter, demanding an explanation.

"He doesn't fancy me Peter…" Molly groaned. _I'm just his convenient key into the morgue_, Molly thought bitterly.

"Yes he does." Mary and Peter said, at the same time.

"Who is this man?" Theresa demanded, setting down her fork and waiting for Molly to answer.

"Sherlock Holmes." Molly sighed.

"Oh my god. That's the man I saw in the papers! The detective with the funny hat!" Laura said, jumping up and down in her seat.

"Oh if Sherlock were here right now, he would hit you Mum." Mary commented. Sherlock hated that hat.

"I thought he killed himself." George threw in, frowning.

"No, no. He faked it." Peter corrected.

"How on earth did he manage that?" Theresa mused.

"Molly helped him." Mary commented.

"You helped Sherlock Holmes fake his death? Wicked!" Peter said.

"That sounds exciting! How did you do that Molls?" Laura asked, clearly interested in the whole conversation.

"I didn't do a lot." Molly muttered, pouring herself a second glass of wine.

"No, you did nothing. You only faked his autopsy, then housed him for two months while he prepared to go destroy a mass criminals network, treated his wounds, and kept the whole thing a secret. Absolutely nothing." Mary said in a sarcastic tone.

"HOUSED HIM FOR TWO MONTHS?" Molly's mother yelled from across the table.

"Calm down Mum-" Molly said, trying in vain to soothe the now hysterical woman, Oh Mary would get it later for saying that.

"Don't you 'calm down Mum' me! You had a man in your flat for two months, god knows what happened!" The woman sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"Nothing happened Mum! He barely paid me any attention!" Molly said, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation.

"You sound disappointed about that Molly." Peter said cheekily.

"ARGH!" Molly cried, hitting her head on the table.

"So let me get this straight. Mary is dating an ex army doctor who works at a clinic but also helps Sherlock Holmes, the detective solve crimes, who happens to fancy Molly and lived with her for two months when he was supposedly dead?" Laura asked, trying to wrap her head around it all.

"That's about the size of it." Mary smiled.

"I want to meet these men." George stated, crossing his arms.

"Oh no, no way in a million years Dad, nope, nope and nope." Mary interjected.

"I want to meet them too, and see just who this man is who was sleeping in my daughter's flat for two months." Theresa frowned.

"Ok, I'm setting the record straight. Sherlock does not fancy me. You know what he claims? Sherlock says that he's married to his work. He's never fancied me, and never will." Molly said, eyeing everyone.

"My daughter, dating a celebrity." Laura smiled to herself.

"They're not celebrities, they're detectives." Mary corrected.

"John's also a blogger." Molly added, getting revenge for all the comments Mary had put in about Sherlock. Mary glared daggers over at Molly.

"Your boyfriend has a blog?" George said, folding his hands on the table.

'Yes Dad, he just puts down all his cases with Sherlock, that's all." Mary sighed.

"Well I'll definitely be checking that." George murmured, cutting at his turkey. Mary gave Molly a withering look.

The rest of dinner went almost normally. The family had a lot more questions about Sherlock and John, which Mary and Molly answered in the shortest answers possible. Eventually, dinner was over, and the dishes were cleaned, and the whole family was sitting in the living room together, reminiscing, when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Mary sighed, getting up from the floor. She turned into the hallway to get the door, and the group continued their conversation.

"So what makes you think Sherlock fancy's Molly?" Molly's mum asked Peter, crossing her legs and arching an eyebrow.

"He was jealous of me. That's why." Pete explained.

"Jealous of you? Why on earth would he be jealous of a gay man? You obviously don't want to date Molly." Laura asked, confusion coloring her face.

"He didn't know Peter was gay. He thought we might have something going on." Molly answered, blushing for an unknown reason.

"I thought he was supposed to be smart." George sighed, sipping his coffee. Molly was about to respond when Mary poked her head in the door.

"Molly? Can you come here for a moment?" Mary asked. She seemed to be… excited? Or smug? Molly couldn't decide.

"What is it?" Molly asked as soon as the door was closed and they were alone in the hall. Mary pointed behind her, and Molly slowly turned, a gasp escaping her lips.

On a small table sat a bunch of purple daisies, wrapped in light lilac paper. Beside the daisies there sat an envelope, clearly addressed to Molly.

Molly gingerly reached out and grabbed the envelope; she tore it open and pulled the letter out.

_ Molly,_

_ I was going to send a text, but I felt it wasn't sufficient to the task, and I hate calling, so I'm sending this. I remember from living with you that daisies are your favourite. Am I wrong?_  
_ Please know this isn't me manipulating you so I can have access to the morgue. (Although I do still hope I have access, I'd miss our chats over the dead bodies.) When I said I wanted you to stay so I could get into the morgue, what I really meant was that I would miss you, I was just too uncomfortable to say it._

_ I hope you can forgive me, I am sorry, I realize now why you might've taken my excuse the wrong way._

_ SH._

Molly read the letter twice, and a third time, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming, Was Sherlock Holmes actually apologizing? And sending her flowers? No, this must be a dream; Molly pinched herself, but didn't wake up. So this wasn't a dream.

"What does it say?" Mary asked, trying to grab the letter. Molly willingly handed to her, and inspected the flowers. They were lovely. He was right of course. Daisies were her favourite. She surprised he actually remembered.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, looking up from his laptop, which he had been busily typing at the moment before. Molly looked up from the flowers, which were now in a vase of cool water, and smiled at him.

"My mother always sends me daisies today, like my dad used to. Daisies are my favourite." Molly murmured, gently thumbing one of the bright white flowers.

"Today?" Sherlock questioned, raising and eyebrow.

"Yes, today's my birthday." Molly said, blushing lightly.

"Oh." Sherlock said, almost to himself. Molly looked down, and started to get a move on with supper, when Sherlock's voice came from behind her.

"Happy birthday Molly." Molly smiled ear to ear, and turned to look at the consulting detective over her shoulder.

"Thank you Sherlock."

* * *

"Oh my god." Mary muttered once she had finished the letter, setting it down on the table, and observing the flowers in Molly's hands with wonder.

"Molly, why was he apologizing?" Mary asked. Molly explained her fight with Sherlock on Good Friday.

"Oh my god." Mary repeated. "He was too embarrassed to admit that he would miss you! Oh Molly, you can't deny it now, Sherlock fancies you!" Mary exclaimed, clearly happy. Molly shook her head.

"No, he was just apologizing Mary." Molly reasoned, but she secretly couldn't help but feel elated when she looked at the beautiful flowers, and the even more beautiful note. It was short and quick, and very technical, but it was Sherlock. And she could tell from the note that he was genuinely sorry.

"I refuse to believe that. I will get to the bottom of this!" Mary declared, taking some dusty fake flowers out of a vase on the table, and going into the kitchen briefly to fill it with water for the flowers. Molly sat still for a moment admiring their beauty, before pulling her phone out, and selecting Sherlock's name under he contact list.

**_ Thank you, they are my favourite, you were right. We're fine. –Molly._**

* * *

Sherlock's phone buzzed beside him, and he quickly opened his eyes and picked it up, reading the text from Molly, and sighing in relief.

Sherlock went back to what he was doing before the text, and reentered his mind palace. Walking through the palace halls, Sherlock stopped in front of a door marked 'Molly Hooper' and turned the handle, walking in.

Years ago, the room marked 'Molly Hooper had only had a few bits of simple information in it.

34 years old.

Pathologist at St. Bart's

Shy.

Easily manipulated.

Fancies me.

Fairly plain.

But now, now the room was bursting with information. Some of it was big, like how she had helped him during the fall. And some of it was little, like her favourite flower, or how she would hum in the shower, and loved thunderstorms.

In fact the room was overflowing with little tidbits of information about Molly. She used apple-scented shampoo; her favourite color was dark blue, which looked lovely on her. When she let her hair go natural it had a slight wave to it. She had no siblings, only a mother. Her best friend was Mary Morstan, and was also very close to her brother, Peter Morstan. Her favourite season was winter, she loved hazelnut coffee, and she was extremely attractive when she was bossy.

Sherlock knew he should delete this information, it was just taking up space anyway, but he just couldn't, because it was about Molly. All of these facts made Molly who she was, made her the Molly that Sherlock… very much enjoyed.

Sherlock decided that was enough of his mind palace for the night, and went upstairs and settled into bed, finally able to sleep peacefully now that his pathologist had forgiven him.

* * *

**ARGH! Even I'm getting frustrated with Sherlock, and I'm writing this dang thing. Also Molly, because she is alway's doubting herself and Sherlock. HE LOVES YOU HE JUST WONT ADMIT IT! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had no idea what age to give John, so I'm headcanoning that his birthday is coming up soon and he'll be 39. Also, in my mind, Sherlock is 36, Molly is 34 and Marry is 34 as well. So there. Hope you liked the chapter, and the little flashback. *pushes plate of goodies towards reviewers* Remember to review, favourite and follow! Love you all! **

**_~Ellie_**


	6. An embarrassing accident

**Oh my gosh, Hello my lovelies! Did you miss me? I missed you all! I'm sorry I haven't been updating that much, unfortunately, I've had a busy few days, which I'm going to tell you all about, even if you don't care, so take a seat beside the fireplace and let Ellie tell you a little story.**

**So on the 2nd I just needed a little break from writing, so I kind of just hung out at home, and I started watching this fabulous tv show Once Upon a Time, which is amazing and I command you to go watch it. *starts to panic as you all get up and start to leave, and pulls you back down* Wait don't leave! Let me finish my story. Anyway, on the third I went to my cousin's wedding, which was actually the first wedding I've ever been to! Woah. I know. Cool right? On the fourth I had a swim meet (yep I actually do sports a little. Shocker) and after I got home from my swim meet at around 4, I decided to take a little nap, which turned out to be a 17 hour long nap. Yeah... apparently swim meets make me tired. Anyway so for the past two day's I've been finishing this delightful chapter and finishing the first season of Once Upon a Time. You can leave your place by the fireside now.**

**Anyway, today I bring you an amazing chapter, that I had a lot of fun writing. I'm kind of a plot as you go kind of girl, but I think I have most of the plot figured out by now, and oh it is good! **

**Oh by the way, THERE IS A HINT OF SEXYTIMES IN HERE. You have been warned, and when I say a hint, it's like just a little bit of sexytimes, because I don't want to give you too much right at the start! Where's the fun in that? **

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Sherlock Holmes stood in front of 221b Baker Street, about to turn the knob and enter his home, when a smell hit his nose, and he stiffened.

That smell, was not one that you typically found whilst visiting the flat of John Watson and Mr. Holmes. Sometimes one might catch a whiff of certain chemicals Sherlock was working with, or the smell of Chinese take out as it was scooped out of its boxes and onto plates. However, the smell of what Sherlock identified, as cake was never found, as neither of the men who lived in 221b baked. Sherlock had no patience for it and John had no talent. Mrs. Hudson had her own stove, so there were only two possible options. Both started with the letter M.

Sure enough, when Sherlock made his way into the small flat and turned into the kitchen, there were Molly and Mary, both with ridiculously patterned aprons and batter all over them. Molly looked up from the bowl she was mixing and smiled at Sherlock, who noticed she had a little bit of batter smeared above her cheek.

"Hello Sherlock." She said simply, smiling at him with a coy and teasing air about her. Mary looked up and smirked at him.

"Where's John?" Sherlock asked, taking off his coat and scarf.

"Right here." John said, walking down the steps from his bedroom.

"What's the meaning of _this_?" Sherlock demanded, pointing to the two women. John shrugged in answer.

"They decided they wanted to bake." He said simply, as if this was enough explanation.

"And they couldn't do it at their own flats?" Sherlock groaned, sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen.

"Yes, we could've, but it's so much better when we can bug you Sherlock. You know my only reason to live is to irritate you." Mary sighed, sitting next to him and smirking.

"Apparently yes." Sherlock grunted, looking over his kitchen.

"Chocolate cupcakes." He stated, having noticed the muffin pans, the leftover bowls, and the scent in the air.

"No shit Sherlock." Mary laughed, opening the oven slightly to check on the mini cakes, meanwhile, Molly took her place, and grabbed the now empty bowl of batter.

"Don't pout so much Sherlock. We're not terrible at baking you know. They'll be fine." She sighed, dipping her finger into the bowl, and scraping some batter residue from the side, before putting her finger in her mouth and sucking the batter off. Sherlock stared, transfixed by her and what she was doing, scenes from various dreams flashed in his mind, and it suddenly felt very, **_very_** hot in the little kitchen. Sherlock squirmed, feeling very uncomfortable. Forcing himself to look away from Molly, he closed his eyes and took a couple of calming breaths. When he opened them, he saw Mary looking at him. When they first connected eyes, confusion was worn on her face, but as she took him in, a huge sly grin replaced the confusion.

"Something wrong Sherlock?" She questioned innocently, starting to smile so wide it seemed as if her face would break. Everyone else was looking at Sherlock, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Everything's fine, Mary." He glared, clearing his throat slightly.

"Are you sure?" Mary persisted, glaring with a playful air right back.

"Positive. Please excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." Sherlock answered, standing up and walking straight past John and over to bathroom. He needed to calm himself down and get away from Mary's teasing.

Damned woman. He thought, only he wasn't thinking of just Mary Morstan when he thought this.

* * *

"Yeah, you need to use the bathroom alright." Mary murmured, just so she could hear. Molly turned to her and cocked and eyebrow, Mary merely shrugged in answer, John sighed and walked up into his bedroom.

Turning to the sink Mary started cleaning the mess her and Molly had created. They had enjoyed quite the day together, shopping around London. After their little splurge was over, John invited them for supper, and while they were trying to kill time before they went over to get the takeout, Mary had suggested they bake something. It brought back memories from uni for her and Molly. Mixing the batter, getting icing all over themselves, licking bowls…

Poor Sherlock. She recognized that look right when he had connected eyes with her. Arousal. Things were starting to get interesting. Sherlock, not only turned on, but by Molly? Molly was a beautiful woman, but she never imagined that Sherlock was one to notice those sorts of things. But now this was even more proof, proof that Sherlock had some sort of feeling towards Molly. Oh this was good. Mary would have to explore this further, but how?

She turned her gaze over to Molly, who was leaning against the counter, staring off into space. Sherlock was still in the bathroom. A plan started forming itself in Mary's mind. It was a long shot, but if it worked, well, it could give her something to tease with, and might give Sherlock an extra push to realization.

And so, Mary took the sprayer out from beside the faucet, and pushed the button, aiming it right at Molly's shirt.

"OH!" Molly exclaimed, trying to defend herself from the oncoming spray, Mary quickly took it away, but not before making sure the top half of Molly was soaked.

"What was that for?" Molly half yelled, crossing her arms to prevent anyone from seeing her bra start to show through her light pink t shirt.

"I'm sorry, I was so deep in thought I didn't even notice it was pointed at you!" Mary apologized in between laughs.

"Well what am I supposed to do now?" Molly asked, wringing out her shirt a little into the sink.

"You can change into one of the shirts you bought today, here." Mary giggled; handing her a deep purple blouse Mary had bought at a little boutique earlier that day.

"Okay, I'll just go change in the bath…oh… Sherlock's in there." Molly sighed, looking to Mary for help.

"Oh just go and change in Sherlock's room." Mary dismissed, hiding her evil grin.

"I couldn't! I'll just wait until he gets out." Molly resigned, leaning against the counter.

"And let him see you like this, with your bra showing through your shirt? I don't think so. Just go in, change quickly and get out. You'll be fine." Mary sighed, pushing her slightly towards the hall. Molly huffed and walked into Sherlock's bedroom, giving Mary a blushing glare before she went in.

Seconds later, Sherlock left the bathroom, and John came back from upstairs.

"Where's my housecoat John?" Sherlock asked, looking around the living area.

"I don't know, probably in your bedroom." John sighed, jumping onto the couch and giving Mary an exasperated smile. Mary smiled back.

Sherlock nodded and turned towards the hallway. Mary turned around and brought her hands over her devious smile. Sherlock would be furious with her, but the man needed something to fantasize about other than Molly licking batter off her finger.

* * *

Molly sighed, and looked around Sherlock's bedroom. It was fairly simple. The room had a dark greenish wallpaper, and tan carpeting. His drapes were white, and his bed sheet was also dark green, with stripes going down it. Boxes of lab equipment sat all over the room, and on his dresser. There was even a picture of the periodic table of elements hanging next to the door. It was all very Sherlock.

Molly threw her new shirt on his bed and quickly took off her wet one, instinctively turning away from the door. She picked up her new purple shirt and pulled the tags off. Molly was about to put it on when the sound of the door opening behind her stopped her.

Molly turned abruptly and was met with the sight of a rather startled Sherlock Holmes. Molly gasped slightly, feeling all the blood in her body rush up to her cheeks… and other areas. Sherlock was staring, looking her all over, and Molly swore she could see a faint blush in his cheeks too. He stood there for a moment longer, before bringing his eyes up to her face.

"Forgive me." He said, in his calm and monotone voice, looking at her for a second longer before quickly turning and leaving. Molly squeaked slightly and sat down on the bed, her head replaying what had just happened in her head.

Sherlock Holmes had seen her in just her bra, standing right in the middle of his bedroom. Oh god. Molly wanted lightning to strike her right then and there. How embarrassing. Oh she couldn't go and face him now! And to think Mary had warned her she didn't want Sherlock to see her with her bra showing through her shirt.

Molly groaned and put the purple blouse on with shaky fingers. He had looked at her too. He had stared, not for very long, but he had. Molly sighed, his face was unreadable, so she wasn't sure if he liked what he saw or…

But what was she thinking! Of course he didn't like what he saw, he was Sherlock, the man was practically asexual, and she was nothing special, she was average. But still…

Oh god. Molly snaked her hand out and grabbed his pillow, and groaned into it. This was bad. She put the pillow back and reluctantly stood up and walked to the door, preparing herself to leave.

* * *

Sherlock stumbled his way down the hall, away from his room, where Molly, a half naked Molly, was.

When he reached the kitchen, he found a confused John and a devious Mary waiting for him, he glared at Mary, he knew exactly what she did.

"You're a vixen." Sherlock growled, under his breath. John frowned and looked as if he was about to say something when Mary laughed.

"I'm a pusher, just trying to make you see the reality." Mary defended. Sherlock threw her another glare.

"What happened?" John asked, clearly very lost.

"What happened is your girlfriend is much more clever than I gave her credit for." Sherlock relented, sitting at the table. The alarm for the oven went off, but before Mary could get them out, Molly strolled in, quickly grabbed the oven mitts, and opened it, pulling out the cupcakes and setting them on the stovetop. Then she glanced at Sherlock, a blush creeping to her cheeks, and Sherlock fought the urge to walk over, grab her, push her against a wall and kiss her fiercely. Molly looked away, and grabbed Mary's hand.

"We have to go now!" She yelled, grabbing her coat and bags and running out the door, faster than lightning.

"Sherlock. What's happened?" John asked, giving Sherlock a wide-eyed glance.

"Absolutely nothing John." Sherlock smiled, walking back to his bedroom and lying down on the bed, thinking about what just happened.

* * *

"What's the matter Molly Wolly?" Mary asked, getting into the back of the cabbie Molly had hastily gotten.

"What just happened? Sherlock bloody Holmes just saw me in just a bra, that's what happened!" Molly yelled in hysterics.

"What?" Mary exclaimed, trying to look surprised and hide her laughter.

"Yeah, I went in there to change, and of course not a moment after I had taken my top off, he walked in!" Molly groaned, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from the cab driver.

"That's delicious! Did he stare?" Mary asked, growing excited. Molly's blush grew.

"That's the weirdest part. He did stare." Molly whispered, her eyes gleaming.

"Guess what?" Mary gasped, grabbing Molly's hand.

"What?" Molly gasped back.

"When you licked the batter off your finger in the kitchen, I saw Sherlock staring at you. I have never seen a man so turned on. Not even John when we played doctor!" Mary squealed, Molly gasped loudly and swatted her.

"Too much information Mary!" Molly sighed, smacking her friend slightly.

"You're ignoring the fact that Sherlock wants to bang you!" Mary said, exasperated as they got out of the cab and went up into Molly's flat.

"Sherlock does not want to bang me, Mary." Molly sighed, opening the door to her flat.

"He does so, I bet he's thinking about it right now." Mary said in a singsong voice.

"I can't believe it. Did Sherlock really just see me without a top on?" Molly said, sitting down on her couch, staring off into space.

"He did." Mary confirmed, sitting next to her.

"Oh my god. What does this mean, how will I face him tomorrow?" Molly asked Mary, turning to her with a nervous expression.

"You'll face him tomorrow, in this." Mary grinned, pulling out a skimpy top Molly had purchased earlier that day. Molly gaped at her friend.

"NO WAY! I can't wear that in front of Sherlock." She exclaimed, grabbing at the fabric.

"YES WAY! You have to, besides, I think he'll appreciate it." Mary winked, throwing the silky shirt at her.

"Mary, maybe he's attracted to me, but what does it mean? Is it just attraction, or something more?" Molly hopefully asked, letting the shirt fall into her lap and looking up at her friend.

"I'm not sure Molls. I have noticed some things that would suggest… but then…"

"It's Sherlock." Molly sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"Yes." Mary sighed with her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"But that doesn't mean you can't show some tits for him!" Mary grinned, playfully attacking her friend.

"Shut up Mary!" Molly yelled, tackling her friend and giggling.

* * *

Sherlock laid down on his bed, and thought over everything that had happened.

Sherlock had walked into the flat. Molly and Mary were baking. Molly licked batter off her finger, causing Sherlock to be extremely aroused. He had gone to the bathroom to catch his breath. He had left the bathroom, in search of his housecoat. John had told him it was in the bedroom. Mary knew Molly was there changing, but didn't do anything to stop him. Sherlock had walked in, and seen Molly without her top on. He had stared. Molly was embarrassed. He couldn't stop staring.

It didn't make sense. Sherlock had seen topless women before, without bras. Why was Molly in a bra affecting him so much?

Probably because he was extremely attracted to her. A few months ago, when he had finally admitted that he was attracted to her, his attraction had grown. The dreams were happening every night now, and were more vivid than he could imagine. It was torture, sweet torture. And then to see her in the morgue, or in 221b, or anywhere, and have to resist the urge to refrain from tackling her with a passionate kiss and ravishing her wherever they were, it was a test of his strength for sure. But that nagging question still remained. What did Molly Hooper have that other women didn't?

This question had been on his mind for a while, and it was one he just couldn't find the answer for. Resigning, Sherlock laid his head down on his pillow and took a deep breath in, and stiffened.

His pillow smelled liker her.

He took another breath. The sweet scent of apple shampoo filled his nose, and he found himself groaning into his pillow. Oh the dreams he would have tonight.

Sherlock sighed and thought about Molly more. How had he ever thought her breasts were tiny? They weren't large by any means, but after seeing a little part of them today… well, they were quite satisfactory. He had to admit. Well shaped, perfect…

Sherlock groaned into his pillow again, and forced himself not to think of Molly Hooper. Instead, he crawled under the covers and repeated all the elements from the periodic table in his mind, until sleep took him.

* * *

Sherlock was dreaming. In his dream, he was again standing in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at a topless Molly. However, in his dream, things were a little different.

"See anything you like, Mr. Holmes?" Molly asked, putting her hands on her hips. Sherlock didn't say anything, only growled a little in response. He wasted no time, and moved forward, grabbing Molly by her hips and pulling her to him, he placed his mouth on hers. Their lips moved together in a rhythm, hungrily attacking one another. Eventually, all their clothing was gone, and they fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Their kisses were growing more urgent. It was time, Sherlock looked down at Molly; her eyes were gleaming with mirth and happiness.

"I love you." She smiled. Sherlock smiled back and repeated the words to her, before bending down and kissing her again, pushing into her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

Sherlock shot up, his breathing erratic and his mind racing. That was different.

The beginning had been normal, perhaps a bit more detailed now that he had actually seen Molly without her shirt on, but the ending… Molly had said that she… she loved him. And he had said it back.

Sherlock buried his head in his hands, staring down at his green sheets. His breathing would not calm.

The dream didn't make any sense. Sherlock would not, could not love Molly. He was married to his work. He didn't love. Love and sentiment were found on the losing side. Caring was a disadvantage, these facts had always been clear to Sherlock. But now…

No. He didn't love Molly. It would be a danger to love Molly. It would give his enemies leverage against him. It would create a weakness for him. Love was the most dangerous thing in the world; it caused the greatest to fall. But it would not claim him. Never. It hadn't claimed him. He was fine. It was just a slip up. His mind thinking irrationally after he saw Molly.

Sherlock looked over at the clock. It was only 9, good; maybe he could get a little- Sherlock's head snapped back to the clock. It wasn't 9pm, it was 9am. Sherlock had gone to sleep at around 4 yesterday, he had slept 17 hours. Sherlock groaned and forced himself out of bed, and changed into his pajamas. He strolled out into the living area, where John was sitting reading the paper.

"Well look who's up!" John exclaimed, putting the paper down into his lap.

"Why didn't you wake me up John?" Sherlock snapped, sitting down in his chair. He was annoyed with himself for sleeping so long.

"I tried to wake you for supper, but you wouldn't get up. I figured your body needed the sleep." John shrugged, going back to his paper. Sherlock grunted.

"Molly and Mary are coming over for lunch." John said casually. Sherlock stiffened.

This was not a good situation.

* * *

Molly shivered nervously outside in the cold wind, waiting patiently while Mary caught up to her.

"I still can't believe you wouldn't wear that shirt you bought." Mary grumbled, looking down at Molly's horribly plain dark green t-shirt.

"Next time maybe." Molly mused, stepping into 221b Baker Street and trying to stop her hands from shaking.

"Nervous?" Mary smirked, eyeing Molly as they climbed the worn steps of the flat.

"Shut up." Molly grunted, taking a deep breath and entering the living area.

"Sherlock! You can't keep body parts in my fridge." Mrs. Hudson's voice exclaimed from the kitchen, Molly and Mary shared a look and walked into the eating space.

"Mrs. Hudson, where else am I supposed to keep them?" Sherlock asked from where he sat at the table, clearly exasperated. Molly and Mary stopped in the doorway, and John gave them a little wave, Mrs. Hudson turned to them and gave them a frustrated roll of her eyes, then drew her attention back to Sherlock.

"Not in my fridge that's where!" Mrs. Hudson stated, putting her hands on her hips and pointing at a suspicious bag that was lying on the table.

"I never understood why you didn't just get another separate fridge for your body parts, that way the eyeballs stay away from the milk and everyone's happy." Molly commented, leaning against the doorway, surprised by her calm voice. Clearly she wasn't the only one, as Sherlock glanced at her for the first time that day. He looked her over, clearly deducing her body language or the fibers of her shirt or whatever. Molly met his gaze and cocked an eyebrow. Sherlock huffed.

"Not enough room in the flat." Sherlock grumbled, looking away.

"Besides this isn't your fridge anyway." Sherlock sighed, picking up the bag of what Molly now identified as a bag of tongues.

"That fridge came with the flat. And the flat is mine." Mrs. Hudson said.

"You know there could be room for a freezer, if Molly would be so kind as to come in a cast whatever spell she put on Sherlock that turned him into a cleaning machine." John smirked, walking over and putting an arm around Mary's waist.

"I'm your pathologist, not your housekeeper." Molly grinned, throwing a wink in Mrs. Hudson's direction. Mrs. Hudson chuckled lightly.

"Oh I suppose it's fine for now, just keep it them in a bag. Don't mind me dears, just having a bit of a day. The hip is acting up." Mrs. Hudson smiled, patting her hip a little.

"I just worry that when it comes time for me to sell this place, no one will want to but a flat that once had severed tongues in the fridge." Mrs. Hudson sighed, walking towards the door.

"Well you needn't worry about that Mrs. Hudson, because I'm never leaving." Sherlock commented, looking up and giving the woman a rare genuine Sherlock smile.

"Oh joy. Good to know when I hit 80 years old and turn into a complete fossil you'll still be here, nearly blowing the place down." Mrs. Hudson sarcastically said, but she too gave Sherlock a sweet smile, before leaving.

The group sat in silence for a moment, as the sound of the door closing echoed through the flat. Molly sighed and turned to the consulting detective.

"Well Sherlock, clear your tongues off the table, we brought take out." Molly smiled.

* * *

Lunch went through with little awkwardness. There was a bit of tension whenever Sherlock would accidentally touch Molly, reaching for something, or when he was trying to push by her in the small kitchen, but all in all, it was almost like nothing had happened.

That confused Sherlock, when Molly walked in, there was a moment she seemed to be unsure, but then, it was if all her nervousness floated away and she was perfectly fine. She seemed exactly the same. Sherlock was sure this situation would turn her into a bumbling schoolgirl again, but she was still the Molly he knew and… liked. Sherlock shuddered slightly, refusing to even think of the word and Molly at the same time. Who knew such a word would hold so much weight.

And so Sherlock watched as Molly and Mary got ready to leave, putting on their spring coats, and grabbing their bags, Mary turned to John and gave him a loud kiss. Molly looked over to Sherlock and they shared a look, Molly rolled her eyes in exasperation at her friend.

While John and Mary were distracted, Sherlock took his opportunity.

"Molly, I'm sorry about… yesterday…" Sherlock murmured, stepping closer to the pathologist, who was smirking up at him.

"Is the great Sherlock Holmes actually apologizing? To me? Someone mark this day on the calendar!" Molly teased, nudging Sherlock slightly with her elbow.

"So you accept it?" Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I do. It was an accident Sherlock, don't beat yourself up about it." Molly smiled.

"Oh yes, I'm sure it was an accident." Sherlock glared, looking over at Mary, who had now turned her attention back to him and Molly.

"What are you talking about Sherlock?" Molly asked, frowning and looking back and forth between her two friends.

"Nothing." Sherlock muttered, still glaring at the oh so innocent Mary.

"Anyway, we'll see you two later." Mary smiled, giving Sherlock one last knowing look before pulling herself and a rather confused Molly out the door.

"Do I want to know?" John asked, putting his hands in his pockets and looking over at Sherlock.

"There's nothing to tell." Sherlock frowned.

* * *

**Oh there most certainly is something to tell Sherlock Holmes! SO how did you like it? Mary's an evil genius. I love her with all my heart. Did you notice how Sherlock slept 17 hours as well? Told you I put my personality into stories. Now for a few notes to clear up any confusion you might have.**

**The timeline: This story started around the beginning of March, then switched over to Easter (near the end of March) where Sherlock gave Molly the flowers, and then we skipped ahead to around the first week of may. That means Mary and John have been dating for a little over two months. Just thought I'd let you know.**

**Jomary: I know this is a Sherlolly fic, but I feel like I need a little bit more John and Mary to spice it up, there have been little mentions of them, and stuff, but the thing is I want a couple of filler chapters before I skip right ahead to the steamy stuff (I'm trying to make this story move naturally) so I might be putting a little bit of Jomary next chapter.**

**The Reichenbach Fall: In my head, Molly helped Sherlock fake his death, along with the help of Mycroft and some of his agents, straight after the fall Molly helped Sherlock heal and let him stay at her apartment for two months while Mycroft set up a place for Sherlock to stay out of the country while they tried to eliminate Moriarty. MORIARTY IS NOT COMING BACK. In my head canon world. HE IS DEAD. DEAD AS A DOORNAIL. HOW DEAD? AS DEAD AS RUE IN THE HUNGER GAMES. AS DEAD AS JACK IN TITANIC. AS DEAD AS-**

**I'm sorry I lost control. I just really hate Moriarty, so he's not coming back. If you have a different idea, head canon or opinion, that is completely fine, I'm just not bringing him back.**

**Ok, so there, hoped you enjoyed the chapter, as usual reviewers get treats and goodies (I ran out of personal Benedict Cumberbatch's sorry!) I'd also like to thank you all for reviewing and favouriting and following! It means the world to me that you enjoy my writing! Anyway, review, favourite and follow! Ta ta for now!**

**_~Ellie_**


	7. Your Song

**Hello my darlings! I'm back with the 7th chapter! This one took a while, because I kept on getting suppppeeer sidetracked, first I had swim team (we're all in a rush to get ready for provincials) Then I watched Star Trek with mum, and then the other night, in the middle of writing this chapter, I went downstairs to get a glass of water, and my brother was sitting there on our living room couch, watching Pinocchio. And he just looked up at me and said, "Man, old disney movies are fucked up bro." And then he offered me ringalo's, and so I sat down with him and watched Pinocchio and ate ringalo's until about 2am, then I came back upstairs and wrote until 4am, then I forced myself to sleep, then I woke up, finished the chapter, and now here we are.**

**I've also been drowning in my Sherlolly feels for the past two days. I tell you it is impossible to get my family involved in my fandoms, I've been trying to get my sister interested in Once Upon a Time or Sherlock, but she couldn't give any shits about either of them. And so I'm left to rot with my overwhelming feels, with no one around me who understands, or gets the joke when I yell out "Not my division!" *le sigh* Oh well.**

**Anyway, i'm like totally in love with this chapter... I'm a bit evil, I'm going to warn you. Plus it has a little Jomary! Plus things are starting to heat up! IKDOHJS. So excited, I literately have been plotting this story up the ass all weekend and I'm so excited to start writing more of it.**

**Anyway's enjoy!**

* * *

"Please? Please will you do this for me?" John Watson begged through the phone. Molly sighed from the other line.

"Fine, I'll do it, but keep in mind that this is not for you. I'm doing this for Mary, lord knows she needs a night out." Molly complied, picking Toby off the counter and setting him down on the tiled floor of Molly's kitchen.

"My thoughts exactly!" John exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Listen, I'm sorry about this, it's just that you handle him so well, and he's starting to get antsy and I really wanted to take Mary out-"  
"John, it's fine, I can handle Sherlock. Despite what you believe it's not complete torture to spend time with him." Molly interrupted, rolling her eyes.

"You sure?" John asked.

"Positive. I'll be over in 10 minutes, have fun on your date." Molly smiled.

"I will. Thanks Molly." John sighed in appreciation. They said their goodbyes to each other and hung up.

"Well Toby," Molly sighed, looking over at the confused cat. "I'm going over to Baker Street."

* * *

"I'm here!" Molly called into the seemingly empty flat; she looked around, searching for signs of life, when she heard Sherlock call from upstairs.

"I'm in John's bedroom Molly!" He yelled. Molly sighed and climbed up the steps to John's bedroom. What was Sherlock doing up there?

"Sherlock what are you doing!" Molly asked, as she walked into the torn apart bedroom. John's sheets were ripped off his bed, his books scattered, there were papers everywhere, she even noticed some of Mary's belongings scattered with the mess.

"John's hidden my stash somewhere in here. I know it." Sherlock grumbled, opening John's dresser and throwing his jumpers about the room.

"Sherlock…" Molly sighed, bringing her hands to her face.

"Look at me Molly. I'm the world's only consulting detective. I can figure out where you were last night by your shirtsleeve and the rings under your eyes. I can see clues that other's can't!" Sherlock yelled, tearing about the room and then turning to face her.

"But I can't find a pack of bloody cigarettes or patches in one little flat."

Sherlock resumed his search of the room, while Molly crossed her arms, glaring at the detective, feeling her irritation grow. It took him a while, but eventually he noticed her gaze.

"Sherlock. We're going to clean John's bedroom, and then we're going to go back to my flat. I have a paper I need to finish there. We can have supper, and by then I should be able to think of something that will keep you occupied." Molly sighed, rubbing her temples and staring at a very disgruntled Sherlock.

"You know Molly, a couple years back, if we were in this same situation, I would either try to manipulate you or just simply say no. Now however, I know that neither option would work. Do you know that you are incredibly stubborn?" Sherlock mused, walking closer to Molly.

"Only for you Sherlock." Molly teased, smiling up at him.

"So there's no possible scenario in which we don't clean John's room?" Sherlock asked, giving Molly an adorable pout. Molly stiffened slightly, and fought to resist reaching out and kissing those pouting lips, but as quickly as her mind had strayed, Molly reigned it back in, and shook her head.

"Nope. We're cleaning this room." Molly stated, bending down and picking up a few books. She felt Sherlock's gaze on her and heard him groan.

"Why is it that whenever we're alone together, you always make me clean Molly Hooper?" Sherlock asked, grabbing John's sheets.

"Because you're always making messes." Molly smiled, helping him to make the bed.

"Always for a good reason though."

"If you call being bored a good reason." Molly retorted.

"It is a perfectly good reason, there is nothing worse than being bored. I need my work to function." Sherlock said, tucking the blanket in under the mattress.

They continued to reorder the room in silence, and when they were done, Molly skipped downstairs, with Sherlock following her and grabbed her bag. She hadn't even bothered to take her jacket off when she had entered the flat.

"Shall we?" Molly asked. Sherlock nodded.

* * *

Molly hummed lightly along with the music that was playing from the radio beside her. Sherlock sat in the living room, his hands steepled against his lips, clearly deep in thought. Molly silently wondered what he was thinking about.

Molly quickly checked the boiling noodles, and the heating sauce. Everything seemed to be in order. She had about 6 minutes until everything was ready, and so, Molly turned to her radio, and increased the volume slightly.

"Hello everyone this is Jack, talking to you from 57.3 the Tide, where we play everything. This next one goes out to all the people in love out there. Enjoy." The radio host said, Molly looked up at Sherlock, who still had his hands put together in prayer position and his eyes closed. Molly sighed and waited for the song.

* * *

Sherlock had been deep in thought, thinking about a new experiment he could possibly do tomorrow, to keep his mind occupied, while Molly cooked the spaghetti in the kitchen. He, however, had been ripped from his thoughts when Molly turned the radio up. The hosts voice traveled through the flat, announcing the next song, and Sherlock tried to ignore it best he could, and he was managing to succeed when Molly suddenly yelped in happiness.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, to see Molly jumping up and down and smiling in delight. He quirked an eyebrow in question, and Molly merely pointed to the radio in answer. Sherlock listened carefully, and heard the opening piano intro to a certain song. One Molly liked very much evidently, judging by the warm smile that was plastered on her face as she closed her eyes to listen.

_It's a little bit funny._

The first line sounded out, and Molly mouthed along to it. Sherlock couldn't help but smile slightly.

_This feeling inside._

Sherlock recognized this song. He racked his brain, trying to remember. He knew it was older…

_I'm not one of those, who can easily hide._

A name suddenly hit Sherlock. This was an Elton John song. Sherlock sighed in satisfaction and turned back to Molly. She was gently humming along, and danced slightly around the kitchen as she worked on supper. Sherlock suddenly had a very strange idea.

_I don't have much money, but boy if I did…_

But no, it was too sentimental. And sentiment was a defect found on the losing side.

_ I'd buy a big house where we both could live._

And yet… Sherlock, for once in his life, desperately wanted to forget his aversions to sentiment, and just let his instincts take over. He knew he wanted to. The question was… should he?

_ If I was a sculptor…_

Should he?

_Heh, but then again no._

Molly looked up and gave him an adorable sideways smirk, causing Sherlock's breath to hitch.

_Or a man, who makes potions in a traveling show._

And so, for once in his life, Sherlock Holmes threw logic out the window, and got off the couch.

_ I know it's not much…_

Sherlock walked slowly over to the kitchen, Molly had her back to him, stirring the sauce. Sherlock took a deep breath and gently touched her waist.

_ But it's the best I can do._

Molly swirled around, startled, and met Sherlock's gaze. She cocked her head at him, confused as to what he wanted.

_ My gift is my song and…_

Sherlock didn't say anything; he simply took Molly's limp hand in his own, and set his hand on her hip. Molly looked even more confused for a moment, until realization slowly dawned on her. She looked up at Sherlock, searching his eyes. Clearly, whatever she found, she liked, because her own eyes lit up in happiness, and she gave him a smile, a smile that made everything worth it.

_ This one's for you._

Sherlock and Molly began to sway to the music slightly, a safe distance apart from one another.

_ And you can tell everybody… this is your song._

Sherlock closed his eyes, allowing himself just to feel everything. The music that flowed through the apartment. Molly's erratic pulse and her heavy breathing. The heat that flowed off her. She was so close… so close but not close enough.

_ It may be quite simple, but…_

Sherlock opened his eyes, and met the wondering gaze of his favourite pathologist. She blushed slightly and looked down.

_ Now that it's done._

Sherlock tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her even closer to him. He heard Molly gasp slightly, and then sigh. She tentatively looked up at him through her eyelashes, before slowly bringing her head down to rest against his chest.

_ I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind..._

Sherlock resisted the urge to pull her even closer. This felt… it was…

_That I put down in words…_

They swayed out of the kitchen and out into the living room, where a confused Toby lay, watching the scene in front of him.

"_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world_." Sherlock looked down on Molly, as she sang along with the singer. Her voice was very breathy and low, but not at all bad. Sherlock held her closer.

_ I sat on the roof, and kicked off the moss._

The words made no sense and perfect sense all at once to Sherlock. All he really knew was that he never wanted to let Molly Hooper go. What did this mean? What was this feeling? Sherlock knew nothing about it other than the fact that he had never felt it before.

_ Well a few of the verses, well they've got me quite cross._

Sherlock tried to sort his brain out. What did he feel for Molly Hooper? Attraction, definitely. Friendship, quite obvious. Caring? Yes, he did care for Molly, he had to admit it. He cared about her the same way he cared about John, and Mrs. Hudson, but differently at the same time.

_ But the suns been quite kind…_

Yes. He felt the companionship he felt with those he labeled friends, but there was another element to his and Molly's relationship, something that separated it from all the others.

_ While I wrote this song._

Sherlock was no idiot. He knew what that element might be. He just didn't believe it.

_ It's for people like you who…_

_ You're married to your work; you're married to you work_, Sherlock thought over in his head, trying to distract himself.

_ Keep it turned on._

Molly raised her head from Sherlock's chest, to study his face again. She seemed quite calm, surprisingly. She gave him a soft smile, and Sherlock couldn't help but smile back. She looked so, content; her deep brown eyes (which he had once found so plain) seemed to shine in the low light of the flat.

_ So excuse me forgetting._

He continued to look at Molly, he felt as if he couldn't look away. What was happening to him?

_ But these things I do._

Something deep inside Sherlock knew, knew what was going on, everything else inside him refused to acknowledge it.

_ You see I've forgotten if they're green, or they're blue._

Molly put her head back on his chest and sighed lightly. Sherlock sighed as well, breathing in her scent. She used apple-scented shampoo, and vanilla body wash. It was all very Molly.

_ Anyway, the thing is._

Very Molly.

_ What I really mean._

Sherlock allowed his mind to rest, and simply enjoyed the moment. He would think about what it all meant later.

_ Yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen._

Tentatively, he rested his cheek on the top of Molly's head. They were extremely close now; he could almost feel the curve of her breasts pressed into his chest. Almost.

_ And you can tell everybody._

Sherlock still couldn't believe she was so calm right now. He couldn't help but appreciate the woman he knew now was the real Molly Hooper. This compassionate, intelligent, assertive and confident woman before him was definitely not the one he had met years ago at St. Bart's

_ That this is your song._

She had changed. Or his perception of her had changed.

_ It may be quite simple, but…_

Maybe Sherlock was changing as well?

_ Now that it's done._

_ I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind._

Sherlock had a sudden idea. Again, very sentimental, but he knew Molly would appreciate it.

_ That I put down in words…_

Sherlock broke away from Molly, but kept a hold of her hand. Molly looked confused and disappointed, until he lifted their joined hands slightly. She then gave a low understanding chuckle, and spun around in a circle, before spinning back into their previous position.

_ How wonderful life is, while you're in the world._

The song was nearly over…

_ I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind…_

Molly looked up at Sherlock, and Sherlock couldn't help but think that she had never looked more beautiful.

_ That I put down in words._

He was becoming more and more sentimental.

_ How wonderful life is…_

But he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment.

_ While you're in the world._

The last line rang through the tiny flat, and Molly and Sherlock continued to sway as the song came to a close, not even once breaking their eye contact.

Silence came over the apartment, and eventually the radio show host's voice broke it. Sherlock and Molly stayed in their position, and another song started to play.

As the first few notes of the song played, Molly's eyes widened in horror. Sherlock frowned in confusion. What could possibly be wrong now?

_ I've been really trying, baby._

Molly ripped herself from Sherlock's embrace, as the song continued to play.

_Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long._

Sherlock's eyes also widened with realization. He knew this song, and knew when it was usually played.

_ And if you feel, like I feel, baby._

Molly ran towards the kitchen, and stumbled over Toby slightly. She cursed under her breath.

_ Then come on, oh, come on._

Molly dived for the radio, and reached for the plug.

_ Whoo! Let's get it on._

Molly yanking the plug out from its socket interrupted the song. Silence filled the flat, and Molly looked up with a horrified expression plastered on her face.

Sherlock however, felt no horror. No, Sherlock felt only…

Amusement.

As soon as Molly's gaze fell on his, Sherlock burst out into one of his rare genuine laughs. Molly looked at him, shocked, for a moment, before she joined in, stumbling into the living room, giggling loudly.

The pair of them fell onto the couch, and looked at each other again, as their laughs died down.

"I can only imagine what the neighbors think." Molly muttered, causing Sherlock to chuckle lightly.

"I'll finish supper." Molly sighed.

* * *

Mary breathed in the warm spring air, and snuggled closer into her lovely, jumper clad boyfriend. They had just gone to the most wonderful little pub together and now were walking through a quaint little park in London. It was the perfect date to end her horribly busy week at the hospital.

"I wonder how Molly and Sherlock are getting on." John mumbled, his finger tracing circles on Mary's hip, causing her to giggle slightly.

"I'm sure they're doing just fine." Mary mused.

They continued to walk, until they came upon a small bench that sat underneath a willow tree. John led her to it.

"After you." He said, gesturing to the seat.

"What a gentleman." Mary scoffed lightly, taking her seat with over exaggerated elegance. John sat beside her, and put his arm around her, he turned his head slightly to kiss her cheek, and then he strayed, nuzzling her neck slightly, Mary sighed in pleasure.

"John…" Mary whispered.

"Yes darling?" He mumbled against her.

"We've been dating for a good time now, right?" Mary questioned. John raised his head slightly to meet her eyes.

"A good three months now." He said, looking slightly confused.

"What would you say… to meeting my parents?" Mary asked slowly, gauging his reaction.

John took a deep breath, and stayed silent for a moment, Mary felt her panic rise.

"It's okay if you don't want to I'd underst-" John cut her off with a light kiss on the lips.

"Okay." John sighed, pulling back slightly.

"Okay? So you'll meet them?" Mary mumbled, searching John's eyes.

"I will." John promised, grabbing her hand and kissing her lovingly on the knuckles.

"Okay." Mary said, happiness flooding over her in waves.

* * *

Together they walked out of the small park and hailed a cabbie.

"221b Baker Street please." John told their driver.

They talked about Mary's parents during the drive. Mary explained her Mother and Father's personalities, she talked about her brother and his soon to be husband, and she explained how her parent's also saw Molly as a second daughter. John listened attentively, until the cab finally stopped at 221b Baker Street.

Together Mary and John walked in, up the many stairs and opened the door to the living area, and both stopped in their tracks upon entering.

Molly was reading quietly on the couch, and Sherlock was beside her, his hands in prayer position against his lips, looking extremely calm. The radio -which never played- had music emitting softly from it. Molly looked up from her book.

"Hello guys, have a nice night?" She asked, causing Sherlock to open his eyes and focus on the pair of them as well.

"Um… yes." John murmured. Molly must be some sort of magician, he thought, to be able to calm Sherlock down every time she was with him.

"Great! Also John, if a few things are out of place in your room, don't fret, that would be our fault." Molly smiled, dog earing her book and starting to gather her things.

"Why were you two in his room?" Mary asked, cocking an eyebrow at Molly.

"I was looking for John's emergency stash. I may have torn your room apart looking for a pack." Sherlock spoke up, closing his eyes again.

"Oh god." John groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Oh don't worry, I made him help me put it back in order, it's fine." Molly reassured, standing by the door, ready to go.

"Thanks Molly, for looking after him while I was gone." John sighed appreciatively.

"You're making it sound as if I need a babysitter John." Sherlock grumbled, opening his eyes again to glare at his flat mate.

"Sometimes I think you do." John shot back.

"Oh I don't think he does. Anyway, I have to go now, I have work in the morning, I'll see you all later." Molly sighed turning to leave, when Sherlock's voice stopped her.

"Goodnight… Molly." He said, looking intently over at the pathologist. Molly gave him a warm smile in return, and shut the door behind her.

Silence filled the flat, until Mary broke it, walking over to Sherlock slowly.

"What happened?" She demanded, Sherlock's eyebrows rose.

"I don't know what you're implying." Sherlock answered simply, doing his best to ignore Mary. John was utterly lost with what was happening.

"You know exactly what I'm implying." Mary glared, crossing her arms.

"Molly came over, we cleaned John's room, went to her flat, ate supper, then came back here. There, satisfied?" Sherlock relented, looking up at the doctor.

Mary looked down at him for a moment, before leaning down to whisper something in his ear. John strained to listen, but Mary was too quite, and Sherlock's face remained impassive, telling John nothing either.

"Well." Mary commented, straightening and turning to John. "I'm going to turn in. Goodnight darling." Mary smiled, walking over to John's embrace and giving him a quick kiss.

"What did you tell him?" John asked, keeping a hold on Mary.

"It was nothing… just a warning." Mary smiled, breaking from his hold and leaving the flat, calling her goodbyes over her shoulder.

John stood for a moment, before walking over to his favourite chair, and sitting down. The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, except for the radio, which was still playing lightly, until Sherlock abruptly stood up.

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight John." Sherlock stated, walking towards his bedroom.

"Wait! Sherlock!" John called, causing Sherlock to stop and turn to him.

"What?"

"How… how does Molly get you to be so… calm?" John asked,

"John, the last thing Molly Hooper makes me is calm, but she does give my mind something to… occupy itself with." He answered truthfully, frowning to himself for a moment before giving John a smile and going to his bedroom.

After, John sat in his chair, wondering what the hell Sherlock could possibly mean.

* * *

**MUAHAHHAHAHAHAH. I'm laughing at all of you silly people. Did you think they were gonna kiss? Did ja? HAHA it's not gonna be that easy! Oh no, I'm going to bring you a world of pain first. God, I am evil. Oh well, a readers emotional trauma gives me happiness. **

**For those of you wondering, it's now the end of may in the story, and the songs featured in this chapter were...**

**_Your Song- Elton John_**** (WHICH IS FLIPPING AMAZING AND LIKE I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH AND I WANT IT TO BE MY WEDDING SONG AND OHMIGOD) I first heard it in the very amusing movie ****_Moulin Rouge_****, and have loved it ever since.**

**_Let's Get It On- Marvin Gaye_**** Bahaha, I was planning on just making the next song after Elton John a normal song, but then this idea struck me and it was to good to resist. **

**Anyway, I hoped you liked all this chappie had to offer. Restless Sherlock, Bossy Molly, OTP dancing, Sexy time songs, Cute Jomary, Protective Mary's and confused John's. Oh and of course, hopelessly in love but hopelessly blind Sherlock!**

***Turns on radio, Let's Get It On starts playing, seductively pushes plate of goodies towards you and winks.* **

**Thank you to all my loyal followers, and my reviewers and favouriters. LOVE YOU.**

**Review, favourite, and follow!**

**_~Ellie_**


	8. Sensual Cluedo Games

**This is a very long chapter. I've been working on this one piece by piece for days you guys. I've been very busy lately. **

**Things I've done in the past few days:**

**1. Gone to see Percy Jackson and The Sea of Monsters movie with mah best fraaaand.**

**2. Baked cupcakes.**

**3. Watched some episodes of Doctor Who.**

**4. Looked after Mum (she's sick) D:**

**5. Not gone outside.**

**6. Wrote this chapter.**

**7. My foot is asleep.**

**Ok so technically that last one isn't something I've done, just thought I'd put that out there. Anyway, for this chapter, we have the appetizer, which is a delightful Jomary seasoned with some cuteness sauce. Then we have the main course, which is a delightful scoop of John starting to piece things together, with some girls gossiping on the side, and a large helping of Cluedo and coziness (Cluedo is called Clue over here in Canada. Why must we all call everything by different names. It confuses my small brain.) **

**And then, for dessert, we have my personal favourite... a giant Sherlock cake sprinkled confused emotions, sexual tension and obliviousness! **

**Oh and don't forget to take the John meets the family mint that comes with your receipt. That will be one hundred reviews please. And don't forget the tip ;)**

* * *

John nervously clung to Mary's hand as she rapped her knuckles against the red wooden door of the small house they stood in front of. After she knocked, she turned to John to give him a reassuring smile. It helped a little, but he was still very anxious. It had been a long time since he had met a girl's parents. But then again, he had never been this serious about a girl this early on…

A small older woman, who John deduced must be Mary's mum, opened the door. Sherlock would be so proud of his deduction skills.

Mary's mother –Laura was her name- launched herself at John's girlfriend, hugging her tightly. This was to be expected, as Mary had told John how close she was with her mother. What was not expected, however, was for Laura to launch herself at John too. But she did, and John returned the surprise hug.

"You must be John." Laura smiled, pulling back to look him over.

"You must be Laura, it's very nice to meet you." John replied. Laura looked very much like Mary, small and curvy, with hazel eyes. Laura however had short brown and grey hair, which was very different compared to Mary's honey blonde hair.

"It's so nice to meet you too! Now come in, suppers almost ready!" Laura exclaimed, ushering the couple into the house. John reluctantly let go of Mary's hand to take off his coat and hang it, and then slip off his shoes. Once he was done however, he quickly reclaimed Mary's hand. Laura beamed at the pair of them.

"Darling?" A male voice called from the other room. John's anxiousness returned.

"In here daddy!" Mary called. The room was silent for a moment, until three people filed into the small hallway.

John immediately recognized Peter, who looked very much like Mary, until you got to the eyes, which were a deep brown. The man who was holding Pete's hand must be his fiancé, Kellan. Kellan had light brown hair and blue eyes. That left one more person, who John ruled out to be Mary's father.

Mary's father was not a tall man, but he was intimidating nonetheless. He and Peter shared the same brown eyes, but he had Mary's fair hair. George studied John, before sticking out his hand for a shake.

"Nice to meet you John." He said slowly, clearly sizing him up. John resisted the urge to gulp. Mary had warned him that her father was fairly… protective.

"Nice to meet you too." John murmured, shaking the man's hand.

"Johnny boy! This is my fiancé Kellan!" Peter interrupted, breaking the tension. John smiled and shook the pair's hands, exchanging pleasantries.

"Well, let's eat dinner shall we?" Laura asked, clasping her hands together.

* * *

John sat beside Mary in the dining room, with Kellan and Peter across from him and Laura and George on the ends of the table. Supper was a simple ham dinner, which was quite good. They had barely sat down at the table before the interrogations began.

"So John, what did you do before you got mixed up with Sherlock Holmes?" George asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Well, I used to be an army doctor in Afghanistan, but I got sent home after I got shot." John explained, picking his words carefully.

"Oh, how dreadful, did the shot cause any permanent damage?" Laura asked.

"I did have a Psychosomatic limp for a while, but Sherlock cured me of that." John answered.

"Ah yes, Sherlock, how did you meet him anyway?" George questioned, stabbing some ham on his plate.

"I was looking for a flat share, and so was he. We ended up getting a place on Baker Street together."

"So how do you go from flat mate to partner in crime?" Peter asked.

"Didn't you help him with his first case? Oh what did you call it? A Study In Pink! Yes, that was it." Laura exclaimed, looking very proud of herself.

"Yeah, that was our first case." John smiled.

"I've read your blog and his website. He seems like a brilliant man, but a little difficult to live with." Kellan commented.

"That's an understatement." Mary interjected, rolling her eyes at John.

"He can be… annoying, thankfully I have Molly." John answered.

"Molly?" Peter frowned, taking a sip of his wine.

"Yeah, I can hardly handle him when he gets into one of his moods, but somehow, Molly can always calm him down."

"Hmm." Peter smiled, sharing a glance with Mary.

"Well of course she can calm him down, he loves her." Laura said simply, wiping her mouth on her napkin. John's head snapped to her.

"I'm sorry… you think... Sherlock loves Molly?" John asked, tilting his head at the woman.

"Yeah Laura, you don't even know the man, what gave you that idea?" George asked in between bites of mashed potatoes.

"Well he sent her those flowers over Easter." Laura shrugged. Now John was completely confused.

"Sherlock sent Molly flowers?" John repeated, turning to Mary for an explanation.

"How do you know about that Mum?" Mary asked, frowning.

"You don't think I didn't notice you two sneak them into Theresa's car?" Laura smiled.

"I didn't know he sent her flowers." John said.

"They were apology flowers. They got into a little fight over Easter weekend." Mary murmured.

"You're telling me that he sent her flowers… and apologized." John said, trying to sort this all out in his head.

"Why is this all so surprising?" Kellan quietly asked.

"Sherlock isn't one to send flowers. Or apologize, ever. I still haven't gotten an apology for the time he used some of my good make up for an experiment." Mary grumbled.

"Well, Molly's different obviously. Anyone can tell he's interested in her." Peter said.

"Oh I hope he is. Molly deserves an intelligent man." Laura sighed.

Eventually the conversation steered away from Sherlock slightly, and John found himself growing more and more at ease. Laura very obviously adored him, Peter and Kellan like him very much as well, and even George seemed to be warming up to him. They asked him all about his adventures with Sherlock, how he met Mary, where he'd grown up, until all their plates were empty and their stomachs were full. After dinner they sat and talked for another hour or so, until it was time for John and Mary to take their leave.

"It was nice meeting you." John smiled, shaking George's hand.

"Nice meeting you too, come back whenever you want." George smiled, patting John's shoulder.

"Nice meeting you darling." Laura beamed, giving John another hug, and hugging Mary as well.

"See ya later John." Peter drawled, before turning to his sister and hugging her. Their hug lasted quite long, and he whispered something in her ear as well. Mary nodded and responded back with an "I promise." Eventually John and Mary made it out of the house, and into the cab they called.

As soon as they made it into the cab, Mary pulled John in for a big kiss. John was surprised at first, but complied.

"Why are you so sweet?" Mary murmured against his lips. John smiled.

"It can't be helped." He responded. Mary rolled her eyes and scoffed, but pulled him in again for another kiss.

"Thank you, they all really liked you." Mary smiled, pulling back, but keeping her hand in his.

"I'm glad." John grinned.

* * *

Due to Mary's hometown being 2 hours or so outside London, John and Mary didn't get home to 221b Baker Street until around 12 at night. John turned the knob, motioning for Mary to be silent, just in case Sherlock was sleeping. Together they crept into the apartment, and took off their coats. John was about to pull her upstairs to his bedroom when a laugh came from the kitchen.

John and Mary rounded the corner, to find a most peculiar sight in front of them. Molly and Sherlock sat across from each other at the kitchen table, both staring intently at scraps of paper they held, and Molly was swishing wine around in her wine glass unknowingly. Sherlock merely looked up and nodded in acknowledgment at the couple, whereas Molly looked up and smiled slightly, before returning her attention back to her paper.

John moved forward slightly, and his mouth dropped agape upon further inspection.

"Is that Cluedo?" John half yelled.

"Excellent deduction John." Sherlock muttered sarcastically, still staring down at the paper.

"Molly surely-" Sherlock began.

"The victim is not the murderer Sherlock." Molly interrupted.

"But-"

"Those are the rules."

"Well the rules are-"

"Right." Molly stated with an air of finality, Sherlock looked as if he was going to challenge her, but then he must've thought better of it, as he heaved a deep sigh.

"How was your night you two?" Molly asked, gesturing to the empty chairs. John shook away his surprise at seeing the two in the flat, playing Cluedo, of all things, and bickering like an old married couple, and sat down. Mary followed.

"It was great, my family is in love with John." Mary answered, smiling at John from across the table.

"You'll fit right in John. No worries there." Molly reassured, taking a sip of her wine again. John nodded, and went to get himself a drink of wine as well. As he stood up, however, he knocked an idle pencil off the table, and onto the floor. John sighed, and quickly bent underneath the table to retrieve it, when something caught his eye. John's eyes widened in surprise, he hadn't noticed this before. Molly had taken off her little black flats, and her feet were now reaching across the table underneath, and resting on Sherlock's lap, on his knees to be precise. How long they had been there, John didn't know.

Since when were they so comfortable with each other? It was no secret that Molly was definitely now considered one of Sherlock's close friends, they had bonded over the fall it seemed, but he had no idea that they were this close. Sherlock hated a lot of physical contact, and whenever he did engage in it, it was always awkward. But these two, they seemed perfectly comfortable with their position. What was going on?

"John?" Mary asked, looking underneath the table slightly. John reared his head back, and hit it against the table. Groaning, he came up from underneath the table and rubbing the back of his head slightly.

"My bad." John mumbled, studying the faces of Doctor Hooper and Sherlock Holmes very closely. Molly was focused on the game, but she seemed perfectly at ease. Sherlock looked exasperated as he read over the rules of the game, no doubt trying to find a loophole, but he didn't look uncomfortable at all. Mary gave John a questioning look, and John merely mouthed 'Later' to her. Mary nodded.

After skimming over the rules for a moment longer, Sherlock huffed and threw them down on the table.

"This game is utterly ridiculous." Sherlock complained. Molly smiled to herself.

"Well we can stop playing, I figured it out anyway." Molly beamed.

"Oh?" Sherlock said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"It was Mrs. Peacock, in the conservatory, with the revolver." Molly explained. Sherlock scoffed at her reasoning.

"Impossible."

"Well let's see." Molly sighed, grabbing the packet from the middle of the board. She opened it gently and took the cards out, inspecting them herself before showing everyone else. One at a time, Molly set the cards down for everyone to see.

"Mrs. Peacock…" Molly smiled, placing Mrs. Peacock's card down.

"Stupid name." Sherlock muttered. John for one thought to himself that Sherlock wasn't really one to comment on… interesting names.

"The conservatory…" Molly said, her grin growing bigger and bigger.

"And…" Molly drawled out, setting the last card down slowly.

"The revolver." She finished triumphantly, grinning smugly at the consulting detective. Mary did a slow clap, and John joined in.

"I don't know why I agreed to play this. It makes absolutely no sense." Sherlock stated, crossing his arms.

"You're just upset because you lost." Molly giggled, standing up and putting her wine dish in the sink. Mary rolled her eyes at John and started to pack away the board. John smiled back at Mary but turned his attentions to a certain consulting detective.

Sherlock was openly staring at Molly as she cleaned out her glass, and he bore a soft smile on his face. A genuine smile that was not tainted with sarcasm, or a snarky look in his eye. He looked… content. John turned to look at the pathologist.

Molly certainly wasn't the same meek doctor he had met about 4 years ago. She was different now, and not necessarily in the category of looks and appearances. More like… her attitude had changed, casting a whole different light on her. It was such a drastic change; John believed that they hadn't really been seeing the real Dr. Hooper all along, just the version of her that Sherlock brought out. But as she grew more comfortable, the real Molly Hooper was discovered, and John definitely liked this Molly better… and so did Sherlock apparently.

John considered all the new information he was collecting. If things kept going as they were with Mary… John had no doubt that he may very soon take a very big step in his life, one that might separate him from Sherlock slightly. Sherlock would need someone, someone to look after him, to care for him, and John was starting to think Molly would fill that roll nicely. Yes, John decided, he would like it very much if Sherlock and Molly continued to explore their newfound… relationship.

And there was no doubt, the way Sherlock looked at Molly, the way Molly would smile at Sherlock. They both definitely felt something. John was sure, and nothing, not even an unbearably stubborn consulting detective, was going to convince him otherwise.

* * *

Molly had been slipping into her shoes when Mary announced on a whim that she was going to Molly's for the night.

"What for?" Molly frowned, pulling her light sweater off the back of the couch and buttoning it up. Mary leaped towards her.

"Girl's night of course. I've been spending so much time with that goof over there, I need female companionship!" Mary exclaimed, grabbing Molly's shoulders and giving her a very pleading look.

"Fine, let's go." Molly sighed, rolling her eyes as her friend clapped in happiness, before turning to John and giving him a big kiss. While John and Mary were kissing, Sherlock and Molly's gazes met. Molly rolled her eyes slightly at the overenthusiastic couple, and Sherlock smiled back at her.

"Ok let's go!" Mary beamed, shouldering her bag and turning to leave.

"Bye guys, see you soon." Molly smiled, following Mary out of the apartment.

As they traveled the short distance to her apartment, Mary relayed what had happened at the dinner in depth to Molly. Molly was glad things were going so well with John and Mary, they really were perfect for each other. Molly nodded and tried her best to listen intently to Mary's retellings, but her mind wandered to what had happened earlier that night.

* * *

"So what colour do you want to be Sherlock?" Molly asked, lacing her fingers and setting her chin on them. Sherlock inspected the row of playing pieces in front of him, a quietly picked the purple one up. Molly smiled; somehow, she had known that was what he was going to pick.

Molly quietly reached for the blue piece, setting it on the board. Molly grimaced slightly, and tried to ignore her throbbing feet. It had been a long day at the morgue, and she had barely had a chance to sit down since her day had started at 6 am. Molly attempted to discretely rub her foot underneath the table, but of course Sherlock noticed her discomfort.

"Molly what's wrong?" He asked, his eyebrows pulling together slightly, Molly shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's nothing, I've just been on my feet all day, they hurt." She answered. Sherlock studied her for a moment; his gaze never leaving her face, before he suddenly bent down under the table and grabbed her feet.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked, bewildered. What in the hell was he doing? He gave her no explanation however. He simply took Molly's black flats off her feet gently, and set them down on the ground beside him. He then cradled her feet in his lap, and started to stroke her arches with his thumbs.

Molly breathed in deeply, partly because he was doing an incredible job, and partly because bloody Sherlock Holmes was massaging her feet. Willingly! With no prodding from Molly, he just up and decided he was going to rub her feet, and god it felt good.

Molly decided not to question it, and instead focused on the long musicians fingers that were stroking and rubbing her sore and tired muscles. He eventually moved on from her arches and started to caress her ankles as well. Molly stifled a moan, however despite her efforts, a small groan escaped her lips, and she quickly snapped her eyes open, and looked at Sherlock, gauging his reaction.

It was not the reaction she expected. Sherlock was staring at her, his eyes dark and intense. Their usual light greeny blue had changed into a darker aqua. Molly almost swore that he was looking at her… lustfully. She quickly shook those thoughts away; he was Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes didn't get… lustful.

Although, until recently, Molly had believed that Sherlock Holmes also didn't give foot rubs, but she was fortunately proven wrong.

She continued to look into his dark eyes, and he into hers, until his hands suddenly stilled on her feet. He visibly straightened and cleared his throat slightly.

"Better?" He asked, in a slightly rough and breathless voice, one that almost caused Molly to shiver, it was so delicious sounding.

Molly couldn't find any words at the moment, so she merely nodded at him. She then reluctantly began to take her feet away from Sherlock's lap, but he stopped her, grabbing hold of her ankle with his pale, long fingers. Molly looked up at Sherlock in confusion, and felt more than surprised when he seemed to be at a loss for words. He looked as if he were trying to find some explanation, and then decided to give up. He simply shrugged at Molly, and ran his fingers gently along the soles of her feet.

And so, there Molly's feet remained, in the lap of the world's only consulting detective. They really did feel so much better now, although after she had seen the look in Sherlock's eyes, she felt more than a little… warm for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Molls? Are you there?" Mary asked, waving her hands in front of her face, trying to get the young pathologist's attention. Really, she seemed to be off in her own little world tonight.

"Huh? Oh right sorry." Molly sighed, realizing that they were now at her own flat. Mary paid the cabbie this time, and together they made it up to Molly's apartment.

"So, how did you end up playing Cluedo with Sherlock Holmes tonight?" Mary asked, kicking her shoes off at the door and startling an unsuspecting Toby.

"He hasn't had a really interesting case in a while, so I figured he might be bored." Molly shrugged. Mary glared at the pathologist's back as she went to feed Toby. Molly was definitely… distracted. She hadn't been distracted before her visit with Sherlock. Something had happened.

"Alright, spill the beans to your good friend Mary darling." Mary sighed, plopping down on the small couch.

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, trying to appear innocent, and not meeting Mary's gaze.

"Oi! Don't you pull your bullshit on my Molly Hooper, you and I know full well that something happened tonight." Mary demanded, not taking no for an answer.

Molly sighed deeply, and scooped some wet cat food into a bowl for Toby, before washing up and walking over to the couch where Mary sat.

"It's not just tonight that I've been thinking about…" Molly admitted, grabbing a couch pillow and hugging it to her chest. Mary motioned for her to go on.

"Well, the other night when we danced-"

"WHAT?" Mary interrupted, wondering if she had just heard Molly right. "Are you trying to tell me that you and Sherlock Holmes danced?"

Molly smiled lightly. "That's exactly what I'm telling you Mary, try to keep up here."

Mary groaned. "Oh god, his attitude is rubbing off on you. Okay, please explain."

"I was in my kitchen making dinner with the radio turned on, and Elton John Your Song came on, and then the next thing I know Sherlock pokes me, I turn around, and he just grabs me and starts dancing with me!" Molly retold, her smile growing wider with each word.

"Oh my god." Mary exclaimed.

"And then tonight!" Molly half yelled, growing more flustered and excited by the minute. "_Tonight!_ I complained that my feet hurt, and again! He just grabs my feet and starts rubbing them, and I moaned and he's looking at me with his lusty eyes!_ Lusty eyes_ Mary! I swear, and I'm just so confused and I don't even know what's going on anymore. I thought we were friends but then we're having all these weird wonderful and dare I say romantic moments and I don't know what to make of it anymore. And this is Sherlock Holmes we're talking about, Sherlock Holmes! The man who practically ignored me for years and suddenly he's rubbing my feet and dancing with me and staring at me with those _EYES_ an-"

"Molly. Calm yourself." Mary sighed; overwhelmed by the information Molly was throwing at her. Clearly Molly was quite agitated by all of this. More than just agitated, it seemed. The poor girl was near hysterics.

"Okay." Molly said, breathing deeply. "I'm fine."

"Okay, so let me see if I've gotten this straight… in the past 4 days, you have slow danced with Sherlock Holmes, and Sherlock Holmes has rubbed your feet?" Mary asked, trying to get her information straight.

"Yes." Molly nodded.

"Well there's no denying it now. The man's attracted to you. He wants to throw you against a wall and shag you." Mary said, in her usual crude manner.

"Mary!" Molly blushed.

"Well you know it's true…" Mary mumbled.

"Ok, I'll admit, I'm pretty sure Sherlock is attracted to me. I'm not so sure about the throwing against the wall and shagging bit though." Molly relented, feeling elated to know that Sherlock thought she, Molly Hooper, was attractive.

"Well I am sure, my real PhD is in Sexology." Mary commented.

Molly rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Well, Dr. Sex, can you tell me if all that Sherlock's feeling for me is attraction, or is it something more. Because I'm getting really confused." Molly sighed; Mary put her finger on her chin, exaggerating her thinking process.

"I'm unsure Ms. Hooper, but my prescription for you is to get Sherlock Holmes in the sack as soon as possible." Mary said calmly, pretending to be professional. The best friends giggled together.

"No, but really Mary, what do you think, I'm so flustered and frustrated!" Molly asked, her laughter dying down.

"Honestly, I think he does have genuine feelings for you, their extent however, I can't tell." Mary sighed.

"Men. Why do we bother?" Molly questioned, resting her chin on her knees, Mary mimicked her actions.

"Because they give amazing foot rubs?" Mary offered, before the two broke into giggles again.

* * *

Sherlock suppressed a sigh. He could practically hear John thinking. And he was thinking far too loudly. It was interrupting his thought process. Sherlock opened his eyes and stared at the doctor, who was sat across from him in his favorite chair, studying him.

"What are you thinking so loudly about John?" Sherlock grumbled.

"I'm not thinking about anything." John said. Sherlock simply gave him a look, and John sighed deeply.

"It's nothing… I'm just wondering…" John started, slowly trailing off. Sherlock let out an aggravated huff.

There were a few moments of silence before John spoke again.

"You and Molly looked very cozy tonight." He finally admitted. Sherlock groaned inwardly.

"Good lord John, is that what you're thinking about, don't you have more important things to consider?" Sherlock snapped, sitting up from his lying down position on the couch.

"Sherlock, in the whole time that I've known you, I've never seen you this comfortable with a woman. You've never even had a woman as a friend, unless you want to count Mrs. Hudson!" John exclaimed. Sherlock's eyebrows rose, clearly this had been bugging John for a while. No wonder, it had been bugging Sherlock for a while as well.

"And now I do have a woman as my… friend. What's your point?" Sherlock asked, feigning ignorance. He really didn't want to talk about this with John.

"My point is Sherlock… where are things going with you and Molly?" John asked. Sherlock resisted the urge to laugh. That was the exact same question he had been asking himself for well over a month now.

"I'm not following you John. I think I'm going to go to bed now." Sherlock sighed, standing up and leaving a very disgruntled John behind him.

Sherlock closed his bedroom door behind him, and in his mind, thought over the last week or so.

He had danced with Molly. He was finding that he was growing more comfortable in her presence. Mary had whispered in his ear…

"Sherlock, you listen and you listen carefully. We both know what's happening here, and if you hurt my friend, I will personally make your life a living hell."

Did they both know what was happening here? Did they really? If Mary knew, he certainly wished she would enlighten him.

Not that Sherlock didn't have any ideas as to what was happening. In fact, he had three.

1: Sherlock was going through a hormonal imbalance that was causing him to be attracted to Molly Hooper, but the imbalance would soon pass.

2: Sherlock was attracted to Molly, and his attraction was causing him to believe that he had feelings for Molly Hooper.

3: Sherlock was genuinely starting to care deeply, (deeper than he had ever cared for anyone else) for Molly Hooper.

Sherlock immediately ruled out the first option. There would be other symptoms in a hormonal imbalance, and all he was experiencing was the urge to rip Molly's clothes off.

Now Sherlock pondered the last two options.

This called for deeper thinking.

And so, Sherlock got ready for bed, and sat down on his mattress. Placing his hands underneath his chin, Sherlock entered the large doorway to his mind palace.

Sherlock walked along the corridors, passing many different hallways and rooms, until he got to the section he was looking for.

Acquaintances. Sherlock entered that section, and walked for a bit, passing all of the labeled doors.

Angelo, Anthea, all of John's old girlfriends…

Soon, he started getting into people he knew better.

Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Mary Morstan, Mycroft, Mummy, until finally…

Molly Hooper.

Sherlock tentatively opened the door.

Suddenly, as he stepped into the "room" Sherlock found himself flooded with memories and facts about Molly.

Sherlock forced himself to ignore the redundant facts, and focus on the important things, his memories. There were a lot of them; Sherlock was going to have to get her a bigger room. But that wasn't the point right now, and so, Sherlock began to sift through his memories.

Meeting Molly. Unimportant.

When she once asked him for coffee. Slightly relevant. At that point in time, Sherlock had chosen to ignore the fact she was asking him on a date of sorts, and instead just told her to get him a cup. Now however, if Molly asked Sherlock to go get coffee, he would certainly accept.

When she introduced him to her 'boyfriend' who was really Moriarty in disguise. Relevant. If Molly introduced him to a boyfriend of hers now… Sherlock would definitely not just shrug it off. He might as well admit it, he would be jealous. But jealous of what exactly? The fact that her and this boyfriend were no doubt participating in sexual activities together, or the fact that she had chosen this boyfriend over Sherlock? Sherlock decided to move on.

When he had insulted Molly at Christmas. Relevant. Sherlock remembered being annoyed when Molly had shown up all dressed up for their simple party. She was obviously trying to look good for someone. Sherlock had guessed it was a new boyfriend, but now he knew that it was for him.

Sherlock at that moment in time had been exasperated that Molly was trying so hard for him. Couldn't she see nothing would come of it?

Sherlock now however… couldn't help but think that that dress had very much flattered her figure, in the most interesting ways.

When Molly had told Sherlock he looked sad. Relevant. This was one of the first moments Molly had shown her true self to him, and Sherlock had been… surprised. Yes, pleasantly so, that she had noticed that he was… troubled. It showed that she noticed things, that she could be something other than a stuttering schoolgirl.

When Sherlock had asked Molly to help him fake his death. Extremely relevant. This had been the turning point in his relationship with Molly. When he had asked her for aid, the meek pathologist he thought he knew disappeared, and out came the real Molly. The Molly that would always help Sherlock, no matter what. No matter what he had done in the past, no matter what he had said, Molly would still help him, because… she cared for him. This was the moment Sherlock found himself truly appreciating Molly, truly seeing her.

Sherlock continued to sift through memories. Memories of after the fall. Memories of her bandaging his wounds, and forcing him to eat, and withholding medication from him when he had been rude.

Then he went through his more recent memories.

When Peter had picked her up and spun her around. Sherlock had been jealous. He knew that now. He had been jealous that Molly was so close to this man.

When Molly had made him clean the flat with her. He had found her assertiveness… attractive. Very attractive.

When he and Molly fought over Easter weekend. He had been stunned by the realization that he would actually miss her, and had made an excuse for her to stay, but had hurt her. Sherlock had tried to forget about this and move on, but the fact that _he_ had caused her pain… however unintentional….

Dancing with Molly, rubbing her feet. Where had that come from? Sherlock wasn't entirely sure. Molly was uncomfortable, and he had the urge to relieve her discomfort. And that _moan_...

His dreams... he had dreamt that Molly had said 'I love you' in the throes of passion. And he had..._ liked_ it.

Sherlock eventually sorted through every single memory of Molly in his mind palace, and he was still confused. Even more so now. And so, Sherlock decided to let it rest. He would have to investigate this more, and solve this puzzle. Sherlock heaved a great sigh and opened his eyes, but quickly closed them again at the bright light protruding from his window. Sherlock blinked a few times and studied his environment. He had been in his mind palace the whole night.

* * *

**Did you enjoy your dinner? I'm quite stuffed myself. (Sherlock totally wants to stuff Molly)**

**SORRY. I AM SO SORRY. These two. I wasn't even planning a foot rub laced with lusty eyes in here. That was entirely spontaneous. It's like these two are living in my head and they're always trying to get me to write sexual things. It's like they want me to make a scene where Sherlock is overcome by lust because Molly is being extremely sexy or whatever, and so he just grabs her, and they go to the bedroom and he throws her on the bed, and Molly's a bit overwhelmed so she's asking Sherlock "da fuck dude?" But he keeps interrupting her by kissing her an-**

**Do you see what I mean? MY GAWD. **

**Anyway, yes. *clears throat and fans self* I hope you liked this chapter, and if some of you are getting frustrated with Sherlock's denial... don't you worry your adorable heads, because I'm planning something for the next chapter... and this is Sherlock we're talking about, he's going to put off the realization as long as he can...**

**Anyway, as always favourite, review and follow. Thank you all so much for continuing to read my story and enjoy it! **

**_~Ellie_**

**_P.S. _****For the next week or so I'm going to be even more busy. Why you ask? Because starting tomorrow, the highlight of my summer is beginning. I live in a small rural town in Canada, and every year in summer, we have a... fair I guess you would call it. It's where all the horse clubs and crap get to compete in shows and stuff. But they also have rides and stuff like the ferris wheel and the spider, and then there are games that you waste your money on...**

**OH MY GOD. SO okay, story time. Last year, at this fair (we call it the Exhibition) I was with my friend Leah, okay, and I had 20 bucks, and we came to this game. Now the object of this game is to climb a small rope ladder that's suspended in the air and ring the bell at the top. Sounds easy doesn't it? NO. NO. IT ISN'T. I KEPT CLIMBING THE FUCKING THING AND JUST WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO GET TO THE TOP AND RING THAT GOD DAMNED BELL, THE LADDER TWISTED, AND I FELL ONTO THE FREAKING CUSHION THEY HAVE SET UP UNDER IT. I SPENT ALL OF MY TWENTY BUCKS THAT NIGHT, TRYING TO BEAT THAT GAME.**

**So... yes. The Ex is coming, also, on sunday, I'm going to be hopping in a car and driving off to the city that's the closest to where I live (The closest city to me is two hours away... because I live in a freaking farming area..) and competing in swim provincials. I'm racing the 100 free and the 50 breast (hahahahha breast) and I'm in a relay. So that's going to be fun! And then summer's gonna be practically over and I'm going to have to go back to high school. All aboard the nopetrain to Fuckthatville. Anyway, just thought I'd let you know, I'm going to try to update, but it may not be for a while. But I'll try. I do have a lot of things on my mind. Like tomorrow... I'm going to conquer that fucking ladder game, or die in the process.**


	9. Greatest Strength

** HEY GUYS! Sorry, I'm a little excited right now, because I absolutely am in love with this chapter, seriously. I love it so much, I want to take it out to a fancy dinner, buy it the most expensive food on the menu and then maybe take a little walk in the park afterwards, out in moonlight, then after we've been going steady for a while, I want to propose to this chapter, in a room filled with rose petals, twinkle lights and a live orchestra. Then we'll have a huge wedding in a huuuugee cathedral, with all our closest friends and family, where we will declare our love to each other and henceforth and forevermore be wed, as wife and chapter... *sighs dreamily***

**I'm sorry I got a little carried away...**

**I have no life...**

**Sorry again, I'll save my complaints for my therapist. Annnnywaayyy, today I give you the chapters of all chapters. I'm very proud of this one. It's no secret I've been having a difficult time writing in Sherlock's perspective, but I feel like I did pretty good *pats self on back***

**Also, I'd like to thank all my lovely reviewers for wishing me luck with the dreaded ladder game, your good wishes were greatly appreciated, and I was all pumped up and ready to pound the shit out of that game on Monday night...**

**However...**

**It wasn't there.**

**It seems as if they have cut the ladder game out of their options.**

**The reason may be because it wasn't popular enough (I wonder why) but I think we all know the real reason...**

**They knew I was coming for it. They knew they were fucked. **

**Yeah. That's the legit reason.**

**Speaking of carnival games. Funny story alright. *opens huge book, puts on reading glasses, and clears throat* The other day I was derping around the Ex with two of my friends, and we were walking around the Midway (the area where they keep all the games) Anyway, all the carnies were being extremely persistent in trying to get us to participate in their tomfoolery. Twas most aggravating. And so, I racked my brain for a reply to their demands that would shut them up for good, when it came to me, like a blessing from above, and so, when the next foolish person yelled at me "HEY HEY HEY! WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY? WIN A PRIZE EVERY TIME!" I turned around, looked the person dead in the eye, and said in my most monotone Sherlock-ish voice.**

**"No thanks, I'm a vegan."**

**They didn't bug me after that.**

**I said that to any other carnival person who asked me. Works every time. **

***closes book***

**Enjoy the chapter darlings.**

* * *

Sherlock steepled his hands under his chin and tried to ignore the cuddling couple on the couch next to him. Sherlock, Mary and John were all waiting for Molly to arrive so they could head down to Angelo's for dinner.

Molly had said she would be there around 7. It was five past 7.

Sherlock remained silent, and forced himself not to think about it. Molly would be there soon.

When 7:10 rolled by, Sherlock began to squirm. Where was she…? But no, Sherlock wouldn't distract himself with ridiculous questions; Molly wouldn't keep them waiting for much longer. She wasn't one to be late.

But when the clock had reached 7:18, Sherlock couldn't help it anymore.

"Where is she?" He demanded, to no one in particular. Mary looked up at the clock.

"Relax Sherlock, she's just running a little late." Mary dismissed, and giving John a sly smile while Sherlock closed his eyes.

"Molly is hardly ever late." Sherlock stated, opening his eyes again, and staring right into Mary's. They held each other's gaze for a while and he could tell Mary was trying hard not to blink. However, she eventually did, and after she blinked a few more times, she looked away from Sherlock and huffed.

"Here," she sighed, twisting out of John's embrace. "I'll call her."

Mary punched in the number, and held the phone up to her ear, giving Sherlock a withering look. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. When it was on the fourth and fifth ring, Mary's impassive look turned into one of confusion.

"Molly's always got her phone with her… I don't understand." Mary frowned, ending the call and staring down at her own phone as if it held the answers.

Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. Standing up abruptly, Sherlock strode over the coat rack, and grabbed his scarf and jacket.

"Where are you going?" John asked, from his position on the couch.

"To find Molly." Sherlock stated. And before either doctors could stop him or stall him by asking stupid questions, Sherlock was out the door.

* * *

Sherlock climbed into the cab and gave the driver Molly's address. He knew she wasn't at the morgue, because she had the whole day of today. Sherlock made it a regular practice to check Molly's work schedule and remember it, so that he knew when she would be in. Sherlock refused to work with another pathologist.

As soon as the cab stopped in front of the tall apartment building, Sherlock hastily paid and bounded out into the rainy London weather, turning his coat collar up against the wind.

Sherlock went and rang the bell labeled Molly Hooper. One would think that Molly's handwriting would be girly and loopy, but instead, it was actually quite harsh and simple. Despite what other people thought, Molly wasn't one to dot her I's with little hearts.

He rang three times, and got no answer. Sherlock hurriedly checked the other labeled bells, seeing if there was a new tenant who wouldn't know better, and would let him in. Unfortunately, all the labels appeared to be older, indicating that all the tenants had occupied their apartments for quite a while. The newest person had been living there for 1 year, Sherlock deduced.

Sherlock tried to think of a way to get in, he had to check her apartment; perhaps it would give him clues as to where she was? An idea suddenly sprouted in his mind, he quickly searched the labels, and picked the one that was most likely to work.

"Hello?" called an older female voice through the speaker; Sherlock cleared his throat and put on his nicest voice.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, but I'm Molly's boyfriend, I'm here to pick her up, but she's not answering. Would you be so kind as to let me in?" Sherlock asked in an overly kind voice. He had specifically picked the oldest person in the building, hoping his trick would work on her better than a younger and sharper mind.

"Oh! Molly never told me she had a boyfriend! Of course dear! I'll let you in in just a moment." The older woman rambled, Sherlock tapped his foot impatiently on the cement, and practically lunged at the door when it unlocked for him. He stepped into the lobby and opted for the stairs, taking them two at a time to the 4th floor.

When he reached Molly's floor, there was a kind looking old woman waiting for him in the hallway, wrapped in a shawl, she stuck out her hand to Sherlock.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Montgomery, Molly's neighbor." She smiled. Sherlock suppressed a groan and forced a smile, shaking the soft wrinkly hand.

"Oh Hullo! Molly's mentioned you. Thanks for buzzing me in, I'm Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock smiled.

"Oh! You're the man I saw on the telly! The detective, I thought I recognized you!" Mrs. Montgomery exclaimed, clasping her hands together in excitement. Sherlock internally rolled his eyes, John and that stupid blog of his. He was now quite…famous, it seemed.

"Consulting detective, yes." Sherlock said, growing more and more impatient. He slowly made his way over to Molly's door.

"Little Molly dating a celebrity! How nice!" Mrs. Montgomery mused to herself. Sherlock rapped on Molly's door, he could faintly hear the sound of a television on inside. He knocked again.

"Do you need a key? Molly gave me one for emergencies." Mrs. Montgomery offered.

"Ah… yes that may-" Sherlock abruptly stopped talking when he heard footsteps from inside the flat. Seconds later Molly answered the door.

Sherlock was about to demand what had her so late, when he took in her appearance. Ah.

Molly was disheveled, clad in her pajamas, dressing gown, and a big comforter she had on over her shoulders. Her nose and eyes were red, and she was extremely pale. In other words, Molly was quite obviously sick.

"Oh. Sherlock." Molly mumbled, in a very hoarse and tired voice. "Sorry I didn't call, I fell asleep." Molly answered, rubbing her eyes lightly.

"Oh you poor dear! You look like you've caught your death! Do you need anything? Pills? Soup?" Molly's neighbor offered. Molly gave her a small smile.

"I'm fine Mrs. Montgomery. No need to trouble yourself. Is there anything you need Sherlock?" Molly asked, looking up at the consulting detective.

"Oh, I suppose you two won't be going on any dates tonight! What a pity! You young people need to go out and experience things while you can. Well, let me know if you need anything darling, I hope you get better!" Mrs. Montgomery called over her shoulder as she walked back into her own apartment. Molly stared at the now closed door for a moment, and turned back to Sherlock in confusion.

"Dates?" Molly asked simply, her brow furrowing in the most adorable way.

"I may have told your neighbor that I was your boyfriend so she would let me in." Sherlock explained, putting his hands into his pockets and looking down. Molly chuckled slightly and leaned against the doorframe.

"I'll have to give you a key." Molly murmured, almost to herself. "Anyway, yes I caught the flu, and fell asleep earlier today before I could call you guys to let you know I couldn't make it to supper. Sorry. Now you might want to go, you'll get-" Molly abruptly stopped in the middle of her sentence, and her already pale face turned as white as snow. Suddenly, Molly pushed herself from the doorframe, and ran down the hallway. Sherlock remembered the layout from his time spent staying here, so he knew she was most likely on her way to the bathroom.

Sure enough, seconds later, Sherlock heard the sounds of Molly retching. He quickly let himself in and closed the door behind him, following Molly's path and gently pushing the bathroom door open.

Molly had her head resting against the toilet seat, looking absolutely dreadful. Sherlock stalled in the doorway, contemplating if he should follow Molly's advice and leave. He really didn't want to get sick. However, seeing her now, her eyes closed and her body slumped against the toilet, looking absolutely sick and miserable, he just couldn't bring himself to leave her. He had the strangest urge to look after her; to make her feel better, and Sherlock was surprised to realize it wasn't because he felt he had to look after her, but because he wanted to. Sherlock could've easily called Mary to come and take care of Molly, but no, Sherlock wanted to be the one to help her, to comfort her.

Sherlock elegantly crouched next to Molly's shuddering form, and swept the hair away from her face. Molly's eyes fluttered open and she groaned lightly.

"You should go Sherlock. I don't want you to see me like this." Molly muttered, turning her face away from him. Molly no doubt felt that she looked disgusting at this moment. Although she did look very sickly and pale, she was not disgusting. Sherlock ignored her request and reached up to flush the toilet. Molly gently lifted her head from the seat.

"Why aren't you leaving?" Molly asked, frowning.

"Because you're sick." Sherlock answered, standing up swiftly, and placing his long slender hands on Molly's arms, indicating he was going to help her stand up. Molly accepted the help and gingerly stood up in her bathroom. She nodded her thanks to Sherlock and grabbed her toothbrush, swiftly covering it in bright green toothpaste. Sherlock stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the living room, where various tissues were scattered about, along with blankets and books, also, a pair of glasses. Sherlock picked the glasses up and studied them, frowning. They must be Molly's. He wasn't aware that she required glasses.

He set them down just as Molly padded into the living room. She picked up the comforter she had abandoned on the floor and wrapped it around herself again.

"Clogged nasal passages, headaches, vomiting, and nausea, as well as a bad cough and an overall feeling of fatigue." Sherlock stated, not even bothering to ask her if he was right, he knew he was. Molly smiled slightly and nodded.

"You just threw up stomach bile, so no doubt the nausea is gone for the time being. You should eat right now, before you grow nauseous again. The cough and headache can be helped with medication, which should lull you into a deep sleep for a while. As far as the clogged nasal passages go, I'm told that steam from a hot shower can often help." Sherlock said, deciding what he would do as he relayed this information to Molly.

"You go into the shower now, and I'll make you something sufficient to eat. I'll also go over to Mrs. Montgomery's and ask if she has any cough syrup and painkillers." Sherlock explained simply. Molly started to protest again, but Sherlock held his hand up, leaving no room for argument. Molly gave an annoyed huff and stumbled down towards the bathroom again, muttering something about 'damn detectives.' Sherlock grinned to himself for a moment, and promptly exited Molly's apartment, walking straight over to her neighbor's door and knocking.

"Yes dear?" Mrs. Montgomery asked, sticking her head out of the door slightly, and smiling up at Sherlock.

"Do you have any cough syrup and pain medication?" Sherlock asked quickly, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking down at the smaller woman.

"Oh yes, come in, come in. I'll go get that right now for the poor dear." Mrs. Montgomery murmured, ushering Sherlock into her small flat. Sherlock stepped in, and looked around, making small deductions about the woman who lived there. Widowed, three children, 4 grandchildren, who visited frequently for her to babysit. He made other deductions just to pass the time, when eventually the old woman came back out and handed him a bottle of cough syrup and painkillers.

"I checked the expiry dates on those, they're all good. I hope the poor lamb gets better. She no doubt got that cold when she came back from that date with you!" Mrs. Montgomery scolded, lightly slapping Sherlock on the arm.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, just the other night. Molly came home late at night, soaked to the bone. Got that nice pretty dress of hers completely ruined in the cold rain! I asked her what on earth she was doing, walking home alone in that kind of weather. She just told me she hadn't enough money for a cab home. You really should've paid for her cab young man. That's the gentlemanly thing to do you know! My Henry was a perfect gentleman, holding out chairs, opening doors. So polite, god rest his soul." Mrs. Montgomery rambled. Sherlock frowned; he had certainly not taken Molly out the other night for a date. Perhaps the woman had her facts wrong?

Sherlock quickly thanked the woman for the medication, and went back to Molly's flat. He listened, and smiled at the sound of the shower running. He took off his coat and began to clean the apartment slightly. Sherlock could stand messy apartments, (if you wanted proof, you need only take a look at 221b Baker Street) however, Sherlock could not handle dirty apartments.

After he tidied the place up a bit, he roamed through Molly's cupboards. He grimaced at the lack of simple food in them. Finally, he settled on a can of mushroom soup. Certainly not five star quality, but it would do.

Sherlock started to heat up the soup, and set out Molly's needed doses of medication. Right when the soup was starting to get hot, the shower turned off. Sherlock leaned against the counter and waited for Molly to come out. After a few moments she did, although not quite in the way one would expect.

Molly gingerly stepped out of the steamy bathroom, clad in only a dressing gown. Sherlock's eyebrows rose of their own accord, when he noticed it was one of his older ones. Molly was obviously to tired or sick to care or notice, as she paid Sherlock's surprised expression no heed as she walked into the kitchen.

"Food?" Moly asked, looking around the kitchen. Sherlock quickly straightened, thankful for the activity to perform, to keep his mind off of the fact that Molly was naked and wet, clad in only a silky brown dressing gown.

Sherlock ladled some soup into a bowl for her and handed it to her. Molly accepted the bowl, and Sherlock turned to grab her a spoon. However, when he turned around to hand it to her, he was stopped by the sight of Molly bringing the bowl to her lips and gulping all of the soup down, in a matter of seconds. Sherlock idly wondered how long it had been since Molly had consumed any food. Molly placed the bowl next to the sink and wiped her mouth off on a cloth. She then went straight for the medication, placing the small pill on her tongue and taking a few sips of water with it. After the pill she reluctantly swallowed the ugly pink cough syrup, making a face after she had swallowed all of it. Sherlock took her dishes and placed them by the sink, following her as she made her way to the couch.

Molly deposited herself on the couch, and gestured for Sherlock to sit in the small armchair. Sherlock accepted the seat and studied Molly as she cocooned herself in blankets, and turned the telly on. She had not said a word since getting out of the shower. She seemed to be deep in thought. As the minutes went by, Molly grew more and more relaxed. Eventually she turned the telly off, and turned to Sherlock with a contented smile.

She studied his face for a moment, as if she was taking everything in for the first time.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have the most amazing hair?" Molly murmured absently, before giggling at Sherlock's bemused expression. Sherlock had no doubt that the medication was starting to take effect.

"No, I'm afraid no ones ever mentioned it." Sherlock muttered.

"Well you do. It's so curly and messy and neat at the same time. It makes you just want to run your fingers through it." Molly smiled, mimicking the action of 'running her fingers through it' in the air.

"Interesting." Sherlock commented, humoring her. He was not paying much attention however, as some of her blanket had begun to slip, and he could now see her breast, covered only in the thin silky material. There were wet spots all over the robe, from where the dressing gown had soaked up water from her wet skin. Sherlock tried to steer his gaze away, but found he could not. This was the closest he had ever come to seeing Molly naked, and this time he let his body and desires rule his mind.

Molly seemed to have noticed that Sherlock was staring at her, because she smirked at him.

"You're probably wondering about the dressing gown. You left it here after you stayed after the fall. I was going to return it! Really I was, but I just couldn't help it. It used to smell like you. It's my favourite dressing gown now. You can have it back if you want it…." Molly sighed, pressing her face into the cushions of her couch.

Sherlock swallowed. It was tempting, to have it back. It would no doubt smell like her now. Of apple shampoo and her natural Molly scent, but as tempting as that was, Sherlock found he enjoyed the thought of Molly wearing it around her flat much more.

"You may keep it. I didn't notice it was gone." Sherlock dismissed. Molly smiled at him in gratitude.

"Good, I wasn't going to give it to you anyway." Molly pouted, pulling the fabric tighter around her. Sherlock gave a mixture of a laugh and groan, as the fabric tightened around her in… interesting ways. Molly looked at him for a moment before she abruptly sat up, the rest of her blankets pooling at her hips.

"Stop right there! That look!" Molly exclaimed, pointing at Sherlock in an accusing manner.

"What are you talking about Molly?" Sherlock asked, forcing him not to smile at her almost childlike manner while she was under the influence of medication.

"That look. I'll catch you looking at me like that sometimes. It's so confusing. It drives me mad!" Molly said, clearly exasperated. Sherlock frowned.

"What look?" Sherlock demanded, resting his elbows on his knees and studying Molly closely. Molly huffed in annoyance.

"The look. It's like you're looking at me… with… _lust_. But it's not completely lusty. It's a mixture of lust and something else. I haven't quite placed it yet. I believe it's fondness or love, but then I remember that you're Sherlock Holmes, and you're married to your work… but still. It's there." Molly said, almost talking to herself. Sherlock's frown deepened. He was surprised at himself. Had he really been looking at her like that? Had he let cracks show through in his composure? He thought he had been doing a good job at keeping himself reigned in. But of course Molly would notice. She noticed everything, because she counted, more than she would ever know.

"I used to doubt myself you know, I used to think I wasn't good enough for you, but that was before the fall. Now, I only doubt you. I'm just never sure exactly what your intentions are! It's _infuriating_, especially when you're distracting me with your dark and lusty eyes and sexy cheekbones." Molly huffed, crossing her arms.

"Sexy cheekbones?" Sherlock repeated, raising an eyebrow slightly. Molly frowned at him.

"Yes. Your sexy cheekbones and your amazing hair, and that little eyebrow thing you did just now. You infuriating man." Molly sighed, slumping back into her couch, and much to Sherlock's disappointment, Molly pulled the blankets back around her.

The room was silent for a moment, before Molly whispered something gently.

"You know, I don't think you're incapable of love. I think you wont let yourself feel it. Because you're scared." Molly explained turning herself slightly, to look Sherlock in the eye.

"It's alright to be scared you know. I know you _think_ love is a weakness, but it's only a weakness if you let it be one. If you play it just right though, it can be our greatest strength." Molly said, looking deep into Sherlock's eyes with her own lovely brown ones. Her eyes however, started to turn hazy, and she slowly let her eyelids droop.

"Night Sherlock." Molly murmured into her pillow. Within seconds, she was asleep.

Sherlock studied the sleeping creature before him, as she dreamt, looking so peaceful and innocent. Sherlock steepled his hands over his lips and tried to control his thoughts. Her words haunted him.

'I know you think love is a weakness, but it's only a weakness if you let it be one. If you play it just right though, it can be our greatest strength.'

Sherlock considered these words carefully. They confused him. Sherlock had proof love was a weakness! A chemical defect found on the losing side! That proof was in the form of Irene Adler. She had almost had everything she wanted in life. She had almost been the woman that beat him. However, love had ruined her.

But… Sherlock also had proof that love could be a strength. And that proof was in the form of Molly Hooper.

Molly had enough reason to hate Sherlock for a lifetime. She_ should_ hate him, but she didn't. She _loved_ him, he believed. And because she loved him, she had been willing to do anything for him. To put her career and life on the line. She had helped him in his darkest hour, had housed him for months, putting herself at great risk, but she had done it. There were many different things that could've happened, many different scenarios that could've unfolded. She could've lost everything. Like Irene, she could've ended up for the worse because of love. But she hadn't. Because Molly loved Sherlock, because she was so selfless, so kind and caring, she had saved 4 lives, including himself. Probably even more lives, because Sherlock had wiped out the network. Molly had taken the risk, and unlike Irene, she had prevailed. She was living proof that indeed, if you played it just right, love could be a great strength.

Yes. Molly had taken the risk. Now, the question was, would he?

Would he, Sherlock Holmes, be able to put himself on the line, to put himself at risk. Would Sherlock turn out better, or worse because of love?

Sherlock barely had any doubts now. He was almost completely sure that he was starting to fall for Molly. If he was simply attracted to her, if this was nothing more than crazed lust, Sherlock would've stalked right out of Molly's apartment the moment he saw her, pale faced and sniffling. He wouldn't have batted an eye.

But he hadn't left. He had stayed, because he wanted to.

Once you rule out the impossible, whatever's left, however improbable, must be the truth.

Sherlock had now ruled out the impossible.

1: Sherlock was going through a hormonal imbalance that was causing him to be attracted to Molly Hooper, but the imbalance would soon pass.

_Impossible._

2: Sherlock was attracted to Molly, and his attraction was causing him to believe that he had feelings for Molly Hooper.

_Impossible_

3: Sherlock was genuinely starting to care deeply, (deeper than he had ever cared for anyone else) for Molly Hooper.

Once you rule out the impossible, whatever's left, however improbable, must be the truth.

There was only one option left, it was highly improbable, perhaps the most ridiculous thing Sherlock had ever encountered.

But, there it was, the last possible situation. It must be the truth.

Sherlock heaved a great sigh. He thought over his realizations.

Sherlock cared Molly.

_Sherlock cared Molly_.

No, he would probably never get used to it.

Now, Sherlock wasn't completely head over heels in that moment. No, unlike many of the romantic movies Sherlock had unfortunately seen over the years (during cases, or sometimes out of sheer boredom) Sherlock knew real love almost never happened right in a moment. It happened gradually, sneaked up on you in the most infuriating and dreadful ways, until it had clasped onto you, never prepared to let go.

Sherlock could most likely shake it off if he wanted, he could stop his unprofessional relationship with Molly and delete all of the information he could on her.

The fact was… Sherlock didn't want to.

Sherlock's breath was quickening.

He would put himself on the line; he would let himself become a victim to love.

And hopefully, he would prevail like Molly, instead of fall like Irene.

As easy as it would be to walk away now, to spare himself and Molly the possible pain, Sherlock knew that he could never truly be rid of Molly. The woman that counted.

Now, all that remained was how to proceed with this new information.

* * *

Molly's eyes fluttered open, and she looked about the room. She was on her living room couch, tangled and cocooned in a nest of blankets. Everything felt heavy, and hot. She was to hot. Molly quickly sat up, and gasped slightly when the world started to spin. Oh.

Molly held her head in her hands until the world became stable. When everything was back to normal, Molly gingerly got out of her blankets and reveled in the feeling of the cool air touching her bare skin.

Wait…_ bare skin_?

Molly looked down at her body, to see she was only clad in Sherlock's deep brown silk dressing gown. As she stared at the dressing gown, all of the memories flooded back to her. Sherlock arriving, making her have a shower, giving her soup and medication. After that, however, Molly could only remember falling onto the couch, and bundling herself up in blankets.

Molly tied the robe tighter around her body, and searched her flat for Sherlock. No sign of him in the kitchen or the guest bedroom. Molly felt disappointment rise within her when she finally found him. She chuckled lightly as she poked her head in the door.

Sherlock was in her bedroom, splayed out over her covers, fast asleep. Molly marveled at how childlike, how innocent he looked while he slept. His curls splayed out and falling across his forehead in an adorable way, and his eyelashes causing shadows on his cheeks.

Molly smiled to herself and went back to the kitchen, to make a pot of coffee for two. She then walked back to her bedroom, two steaming mugs of brown liquid clasped in her hands.

She placed the cups down on her end tables, and gently shook Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock grunted slightly, the puff of hair causing some of his wayward curls to rise slightly. Molly bit back a giggle and shook him again.

"Sherlock! Wake up!" She called. Sherlock turned his head away from her. Molly pondered how she was going to wake him.

"Wake up Sherly! Wake up! _Sheeeerrllyy_!" She called in her best teasing tone. Sherlock abruptly sat up.

"Don't call me Sherly." He grumbled, immediately grabbing his coffee and taking a long, and appreciative sip.

Molly studied him as he drank his coffee. He studied her as well.

Something seemed… different in Sherlock. He seemed more at ease with her, but at the same time, more tense. It didn't make any sense to Molly.

"You didn't have to stay last night, but thank you all the same." Molly murmured, grabbing her own coffee and downing it.

"No, it was fine. You needed someone to look after you. You're obviously better today. Besides, you're quite interesting when under the influence of painkillers and cough syrup." Sherlock commented, smiling to himself. Molly gasped, horrified.

"Oh god! What did I say?" Molly asked, her cheeks flooding with blood.

Sherlock got a faraway look in his eyes, before blinking slightly and looking down into his coffee cup. "Nothing of importance." He stated simply. Molly bent down and groaned into her pillow.

"Molly, I assure you. It's fine. Now I really must be off, John's no doubt wondering where I got to, and I'm planning on visiting Lestrade about any cases he might have for me." Sherlock muttered, standing up and exiting the bedroom. Molly followed after him, and took his cup as he put on his scarf and jacket.

Sherlock was about to leave her flat when he stopped in his tracks, turning to Molly slightly; he regarded her with a questioning expression.

"When I went to get the medicine from your neighbor, she mentioned that the other night you walked into the hallway soaked from rain, because you walked home instead of taking a cab. She also mentioned you were in a very nice dress. What happened?" Sherlock asked, leaning against her door. Molly sighed deeply.

"I was… on a date, we went to a nice restaurant a fair distance away from where I live. It was going well, until a woman showed up, and started yelling at him." Molly answered.

"Ex wife?" Sherlock guessed, his frown deepening.

"_Current_ wife." Molly corrected, smiling ruefully at Sherlock, whose now was sporting a full on scowl.

"I was disgusted, I immediately apologized to the poor woman, and used all of the money I'd brought with me to pay the bill. Of course I didn't think to bring my debit card or cell, so after I paid the bill for the restaurant, I had no money left. I had to walk home." Molly looked up at Sherlock, his frown was gone, and was now replaced with a calm mask. However, under the mask, Molly saw pure anger.

Sherlock took a few breaths, and met Molly's questioning gaze.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked quietly. Molly was taken back by the question.

"Oh… um, yes, I'm fine… it was only our first date, and um… he wasn't perfect, I said it was going well, not amazing. I didn't spare him any tears." Molly answered, stuttering a little. Sherlock nodded at her slightly, and rested his hand on the doorknob.

"Good… I'll be going now Molly, I assume that by tomorrow if you take proper care of yourself and eat you'll be almost completely." Sherlock said quickly. After that, he nodded at Molly and left her flat. Molly frowned at the now closed front entrance, and blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Sherlock had been acting… odd, well, odder than usual. Something had obviously happened to him, the question was, what?

* * *

**ASDFGHJKL **

**SOOO What did you think my lovelies? Did you like my interpretation? Perhaps I should explain some things? **

**Some of you are probably like 'lol wut, why doesn't he love Molly yet?' Here is my answer.**

**To me, Sherlock falling in love with someone would have layers.**

**First Layer: You earn his respect and trust... Molly's done that.**

**Second Layer: Sherlock would consider you a friend... Check.**

**Third Layer: Sherlock breaks down his walls and allows himself to feel. That's what just happened. See, I think that Sherlock would try to fight it, for a while, until finally the problem becomes to big to ignore. Even then though, he would still try to persuade himself into thinking that it what he was feeling wasn't real. He would try to come up with alternate possible answers, so he could avoid the truth, there comes a moment that Sherlock must realize however, that he is feeling something other than friendship. That was what we had here, Sherlock finally acknowledging that this wasn't just attraction, that this was something real and precious. **

**Fourth layer: Sherlock then has two options, crush it or nurture it. He's obviously chosen to try it out, he already tried to ignore it, and it didn't work, so what we come to here in this chapter, isn't a realization of love, it's a realization that he's on the path to love, and wondering if he should take the risk...**

**BOOM. Science. **

**Besides, I also want to drag this out, for suspense and for realism. **

**So there you have it, Sherlock's semi realization. I'm not sure if this will make sense to any of you, it seemed like a good idea in my head ._. **

**Let me know if you think that I'm taking this with the right or wrong angle, all feedback is appreciated!**

**Review, Favourite, and Follow!**

**_~Ellie_**

**P.S. ALSO BTW'S. GUESS WHO'S GETTING BRACES. ME. FUCK MY LIFE.**

**P.P.S ALSO, GUESS WHO'S GETTING GUM SURGERY. ME. SHIT SHIT SHIT TIT LIT SHIT. I hate the orthodontist. **


	10. Steamy Bathrooms

**I know.**

**Shhhh. I know. It's been wayyyy too long since I updated. **

***Slams judges hammer down to quiet all of you* ORDER ORDER.**

**In my defence, I've been writing a lot these past 10 days. What have I been writing you ask? Oh nothing, just some things for more sherlolly fanfictions I'm planning. Oh yes, I've been hit with a mad wave of feels and inspiration, and instead of letting it drown me, I am going to surf it! *Does a wicked surf trick on the wave of feels and astounds you all with my epicness***

**I have 3 ideas for 3 fics. One is a 1900's ish au fic, about Molly and Sherlock derp. Another is a modern arranged marriage with a bit of a twist... and the third... well it's hard to explain, but I can promise that all three of this are going to be filled with sexuuaaaaaall tenssssioooon *licks lips and cackles* **

**Speaking of sexual tension darlings, THIS CHAPTER. OOOOOH IT HAS TENSION. BUT THE NEXT IS GONNA HAVE EVEN MORE! GAH! **

**God they need to have sex soon. This tension is tearing me up. And the only thing that should be tearing are Sherlock and Molly's clothes as they passionately devour each other. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.**

**Also, for all my fans who are wondering if Sherlock's going to go seek advice from John or Mary or someone concerning Molly, don't you worry... I've gots the ideas. **

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter my lovelies! I'll try to get chapter 11 out as soon as I can!**

* * *

On the morning of June the first, Molly had a rather rude awakening.

She had been lying in bed, sleeping peacefully, burrowed underneath her covers, dreaming of just the other day when a certain consulting detective had taken care of her and been uncharacteristically considerate. She hadn't seen him for a day or so, which wasn't uncommon, especially when he had a case, but she found herself thinking about his odd departure a lot, and wondering what it had all meant.

She had been mulling over the exact shade of his eyes when she felt the hand wrap around her exposed ankle.

Molly's eyes snapped open, and she abruptly sat up, grabbing the heaviest thing near her- which was a paperweight- and raising it, preparing to strike her attacker.

"I never thought I'd die by the hands of Molly Hooper wielding a paper weight…"

Molly groaned, and set the paperweight back on her end table.

"What do you want Mary?" Molly groaned, flopping back onto her back and bringing the blankets up to her chin. Mary crawled onto the bed and lied down beside Molly, placing her hands on her stomach.

"Want to go for a run?" Mary asked, raising an eyebrow at Molly. Only then did Molly notice that Mary was all decked out in her exercise garb, and had her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

Molly sighed into her pillow. Mary went for runs almost everyday, she had ever since they got out of high school. It wasn't unusual for Molly to go on a run with her, but today, Molly really didn't feel like getting out of her bed.

"Do I have to?" Molly asked, turning her head towards Mary and pouting.

"Yes. I need company." Mary said, not offering any resistance. Molly groaned.

"Fine. I need to get dressed. Get out." Molly grumbled, staggering out of her bed and towards her dresser.

"Someone's bossy today!" Mary called over her shoulder as she swaggered out of the room, clearly pleased with herself for persuading Molly to join her. Molly closed the door and grabbed her running clothes. It was an unusually warm and sunny day for London, and so Molly opted for shorts instead of pants.

Molly was just lacing up her shoes when her cellphone started ringing. Molly quickly finished lacing them and ran over to her phone, quickly answering before the caller hung up.

"Hello?" Molly asked.

"Hullo, Molly?" A male voice responded. Molly frowned, trying to figure out how she recognized that voice.

"Speaking. Who's this?" Molly questioned, putting a hand on her hip and pacing.

"This is… Mitch, Mitch Adams…" The man answered. Molly stopped pacing and breathed in a sharp breath. Mitch Adams was the supposedly single bachelor she had gone out with, only to figure out that he was married.

"What do you want Mitch?" Molly sighed, rubbing her temples lightly.

"I… I just wanted to apologize for taking you out. I'm… sorry." Mitch said. Molly opened her eyes, her face the perfect image of pleasant surprise.

"Oh… thank you Mitch." Her surprise however quickly turned into suspicion.

"If you think this will make me want to go out with you again…"  
"No. It's not; I just… had the sudden inclination to apologize. It was wrong… what I did." Mitch muttered.

"Well thank you. I have to go now, goodbye Mitch." Molly mumbled. She was surprised, and even more confused. She hadn't known Mitch for long, but to her he didn't really seem like the apologizing type.

"Goodbye Molly." Mitch said back. Molly sighed and took the phone away from her ear, she was about to press end call when Mitch said one other thing.

"There. Happy?" He said harshly. Molly frowned, and listened for a few more moments, seeing if he would say anything else. He didn't however, so Molly ended the call and put her phone back on her dresser. As she pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, Molly considered the strange conversation she had just had. What on earth had given Mitch the inspiration to apologize

* * *

"There. Happy?" The man in front of him growled, snapping the phone shut and holding his hand out.

"Quite. Here are your pictures." Sherlock murmured, dropping the USB into Mitch's open hand.

"I still don't know how you managed to find all these… they were well guarded." Mitch muttered, clasping the USB tightly in his palm. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Please, it was child's play, I suggest you find a better password for protecting your special files…" Sherlock shot back, wrinkling his nose slightly. It had taken his exactly 30 seconds to figure out Mitch's password for the files on his computer that contained certain pictures… of his many affairs. Affairs his wife didn't know about.

"You know this is invading my privacy, I could have you arrested for this." Mitch grumbled, throwing the USB into his desk.

"And run the risk that I may still have some pictures in my possession, that may or may not find their way to your wife?" Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow at the man. The man snorted and rolled his eyes.

"At least you didn't ask for money, don't understand why you just wanted me to apologize."

"Dr. Hooper is a colleague of mine whom you wronged. I believe the social nicety is to apologize, which clearly you weren't planning to do. So I gave you incentive." Sherlock responded, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Yeah. Okay, right." Mitch snorted, shaking his head at Sherlock.

* * *

Molly and Mary had been running through the streets of London, having a good time and making idle chatter, when the sprinkling started.

"Ah, that feels nice." Mary commented, holding her hand out and catching a few drops in her palm.

"As long as it stays to a drizzle…" Molly said warily, looking up to the sky.

It didn't.

15 minutes later, London was under downright downpour. It was only a matter of seconds before Molly and Mary were completely soaked, head to toe. Together they ran under the cover of an awning of a near by store and rubbed their arms.

"Bloody hell sometimes I hate being English. It's June the first and its raining, and it fucking cold." Mary grumbled, her teeth chattering.

"It was so nice out when we started." Molly sighed, watching as a couple ran towards a cab, their hands clasped between them.

"And we didn't bring any money. Brilliant." Mary murmured.

"Looks like we're running home." Molly said, bringing her hands up to wring out her hair.

"Yeah," Mary said, looking down at her feet. Neither were really eager to run home in the rain.

Suddenly Mary's eyes fixed on a point behind Molly and she smiled brightly.

"What is it?" Molly asked, frowning.

"Our ride home." Mary smiled mischievously, waving at whatever she was looking at. Molly turned around and was met with a curious sight.

It was Sherlock, sporting a dark blue button up and black pants, also completely soaked. His dark curls were plastered to his face, and he still looked completely gorgeous. Molly groaned inwardly, no doubt she looked like hell.

"What are you doing here Sherlock?" Molly asked, self consciously crossing her arms. Molly looked over at Mary who had a curious expression on her face.

"I was returning from an appointment for a small case I just finished. I was walking home and it started raining. Obviously." Sherlock huffed. Molly tilted her head at him, for some reason he seemed… flustered? But why?

"Well, how about you get us a cab?" Mary said, cutting to the chase. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Mary, if I had any money to get a cab, we wouldn't be in this predicament." Mary visible drooped.

"Worth a try." She muttered.

"Then we better start running to my apartment Mary." Molly sighed, now going to wring her shirt out.

"I don't see why you two would go back to Molly's when Baker Street is much closer." Sherlock stated, frowning at the two.

"That's the closest to a invitation we're ever gonna get." Mary smiled, stepping back into the downpour. Molly and Sherlock followed her.

"Well let's head off then." Molly yelled over the sound of rain hitting the sidewalk. Sherlock and Mary nodded, and the trio started running in the direction of Baker Street.

* * *

If Sherlock claimed he hadn't been watching Molly as they ran, he'd be lying.

He was most definitely watching her.

He had just been walking back from his encounter with Mitch when the rain had started. When it had started to come down with a vengeance, Sherlock had cursed himself for not bringing his coat or wallet with him.

Perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise.

Sherlock tried to remember not to stare too much, for fear that Mary would catch him. He hadn't missed the look she'd thrown him when he'd first approached. She knew to some extent what he was going through, or had her suspicions.

So Sherlock only allowed himself slight glances in Molly's direction as she ran against the rain, squinting her eyes against the offending downpour. Yes, he only glanced at the light tank top she had opted for, that was now clinging to her wet skin, showing a figure he hardly ever saw. He only glanced at the drops of water that rolled down her chest and into the crevice between her breasts. He only glanced at the way the slight muscles in her legs became more prominent when she ran, and the way her hips swayed slightly.

Perhaps he was doing more than glancing.

They finally arrived in 221b, and all stumbled into the doorway, breathing heavily and resting a moment. Sherlock forced himself to ignore the way Molly's chest was moving as she sucking in deep breaths.

"Sherlock is that you?" Mrs. Hudson called out from her apartment that sat on the ground floor. Sherlock gave her no answer.

"Sherlock?" She called again, her footsteps echoed through the little hallway as she stalked to her door. When she opened it, Mrs. Hudson gasped.

"Oh! You poor dears! Why on earth did you not take a cab?" Mrs. Hudson fretted, moving towards the trio and frittering about.

"No money." Molly said in between breaths.

"Oh, you've probably all gone and caught your deaths! I'll start a soup, you three get upstairs and warm yourselves up. You really need to start taking money with you young man!" Mrs. Hudson ordered and scolded. Sherlock smiled to himself slightly, he pretended to be annoyed, but he secretly enjoyed when Mrs. Hudson worried and made a fuss over him. She was more of a mother to him than his real one.

And so the three of them stepped into Sherlock and John's flat, dripping water all over the floors. John looked up from his newspaper and looked at all of them.

"Nice walk home?" He asked, setting his coffee cup down and getting up from his favourite chair.

"Wonderful." Molly drawled, rolling her eyes. Sherlock cracked a smile. John strolled over and rubbed Mary's arms to warm them up.

"You should all have showers… and towels." John murmured.

"And food." Molly added.

"Oh I call having a shower first." Mary hummed, quickly throwing her shoes off and walking towards the stairs.

"I'll use John's bathroom." She called over her shoulder, leaving no room for argument. John chuckled lightly and made his way to the downstairs bathroom.

"I'll have to get her a towel." He sighed, turning his way into the hallway, leaving Sherlock and Molly somewhat alone.

"Thanks for letting us come here…" Molly said, smiling up at Sherlock, and twiddling slightly with her thumbs. Sherlock nodded at her.

The room was silent for a few moments, until Molly broke it with a low chuckle.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Molly chuckled again. "Oh, it's just… this is the second time this week I've walked home in the rain. I'm really making a bad habit out of this." Molly sighed, crossing her arms.

"Well to be fair, we ran." Sherlock smiled coyly at her. Molly rolled her eyes and scoffed, glancing at him through her eyelashes. Her face quickly turned serious however.

"Speaking of that, you know, he called me today. Mitch, that was his name. He called me and apologized…" Molly commented, confusion spreading over her face like a cloud. Sherlock shifted his weight on his feet and forced his face to remain impassive. Sherlock Holmes was quite the liar…. when a very wet, beautiful and confused Molly Hooper wasn't distracting him.

"Did he? How nice of him." Sherlock said lightly, hoping she would drop it.

"Yes but that's the thing…" Molly continued, not dropping it. "Mitch was never the type to apologize. Granted I knew him for all of 2 hours, but he just didn't seem like that type of person." Molly sighed, clearly quite frustrated.

"Perhaps his wife was making him do it?" Sherlock offered, bringing her closer, and yet further from the truth.

Molly nodded to herself. "Most likely. Right before I hung up he said 'There, happy?' He must've been talking to her when he said that." Molly finished, seeming quite satisfied with her conclusion; Sherlock huffed out a quiet sigh of relief as John walked in.

John strolled up to them, with three towels draped over his arm.

"Molly you can go first downstairs. Sherlock you wait." John ordered, shoving a towel into both of their arms and ushering Molly towards the bathroom.

Sherlock sighed at the thought that he would be showering in the same spot as Molly, and then he completely paused when he realized she would most likely be using his shampoo. Oh this was going to be torture.

* * *

Sherlock was still waiting for Molly to be done in the shower. John had gone upstairs to his bedroom, and frankly, Sherlock didn't want to know what was going on up there with him and Mary. So instead, he sat on the couch, his towel draped on his lap, hands steepled over his mouth, deep in thought.

He had been contemplating every dream he had ever had of Molly when a singing voice broke his concentration.

_ Home is behind, the world ahead._

Sherlock's eyes instantly snapped open, before darting towards the closed bathroom door.

_ And there are many paths to tread._

Molly was singing.

_Through shadow, to the edge of night._

In all the time Sherlock had known Molly, he had never, ever heard her sing. He'd heard her hum a song before, and perhaps he had heard something akin to singing from her lips, as she idly prepared food or helped him clean the flat. But nothing like this, this was an actually melody, and it was… enchanting.

_ Until the stars, are all alight._

Sherlock closed his eyes again, and listened to her song. He had never heard it before, but it fit perfectly with the late evening rain that produced constant drumming noises as it thundered down. Yes, Molly's beautiful and slightly eerie voice fit perfectly with the thrumming rain.

_ Mist and shadow._

_Cloud and shade._

_ All shall fade._

Molly took a slight pause, before her voice rang out once more, concluding the song.

_ All shall fade._

Sherlock smiled to himself, as he carefully took this particular memory and stored it in Molly's room in the mind palace.

* * *

Mary carefully tiptoed past Sherlock, whose eyes were closed. He appeared to be in deep concentration. _Must be in his mind palace_, Mary mused.

She had no time to wonder what Sherlock was doing however. And so Mary quickly pranced her way to the bathroom door, gently turning the knob and pushing it open, before sliding in.

Molly was idly humming to herself, and Mary silently thanked Sherlock for his love of dark colours, as the shower curtain was too dark for Molly to see through.

Mary quickly scanned the steamy bathroom, and grabbed Molly's towel, Sherlock's dressing gown, anything that could be used for Molly to dry herself off with.

Maybe Mary was being a little meddlesome, but _jesus christ_. Mary couldn't decide which was worse, the sexual tension or the romantic tension between these too, or the fact that they were both doing nothing about it!

Regardless, Mary could hardly do anything about the romantic tension for now, but she could do something about the sexual tension. After all, Mary did have a PhD in sex.

Mary clutched the fabrics to her chest and made her way out of the bathroom, and past the deep in thought Sherlock.

_ Probably thinking about Molly's breasts or something like that… well just you wait Sherlock._

Mary ran up the stairs and yanked the door to John's room open, and quickly closed it behind her, dumping the towels and dressing gowns on his floor. John looked up from his position on the bed and cocked an eyebrow at Mary.

"What are you doing _now_ darling?" John asked suspiciously.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mary said defensively, sticking her nose in the air and crossing her arms.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you said you were going down to make tea, and you come back up looking like you've emptied a closet." John smiled, pointing to the pile at Mary's feet.

"I may or may not have taken all of the towels out of the downstairs bathroom, so Molly would have to ask Sherlock for a towel." Mary relented, coming to lie down by her boyfriend.

John gaped at her. "_Mary_!" He scolded, playfully swatting her arm.

"_John_!" She mimicked, giggling. "There's no need to seem so affronted, what I did with Molly and her shirt was much worse." Mary commented.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, his brow furrowing in the most adorable way.

"One time after we got back from shopping, I purposely got Molly's shirt wet and told her to go change in Sherlock's room, hoping he would walk in on her changing." Mary explained. John looked at her in shock.

"And did he?" He asked.

"He did." Mary giggled. John made an astonished gasp before giggling.

"And what else have you done? Poor Molly, you are setting her up in all of these compromising situations!" John laughed.

"Oh I haven't done anything else… but I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Mary winked. John shook his head in mock scorn before pulling her in for a kiss.

* * *

Molly sighed with happiness as she stepped out of the shower, breathing in the hot steam with delight. Molly idly took a sniff of her hair, humming in appreciation. It smelt_ just_ like Sherlock.

But enough, she scolded, opening her eyes and dropping her locks. She was dripping water on the mat and she needed her towel. Molly immediately looked to the counter and went to grab her towel.

Only there was no towel there.

Molly frowned, and looked about the bathroom, taking careful steps (as she was soaked, slightly soapy and slippery.) There was no sign of a towel anywhere. Molly was absolutely positive she had brought one in.

Molly searched for a moment longer until she finally resigned, and gently cracked the door open.

Molly gingerly poked her head out and called.

"Hello?" Molly asked, looking down the hallway and towards the living room. When she got no response, Molly huffed.

"_Hellloooo_?" She called again, sticking her head out further. This time she did get a response, a small grunt. Seconds later Sherlock was walking towards her from down the hallway, his eyes widening as he noticed that Molly was naked behind the door. Molly felt a blush creep up to her cheeks, but forced herself to remain calm.

"I lost my towel, can you get me one?" Molly asked quietly, shrinking back slightly under Sherlock's intense gaze.

"Lost?" Sherlock asked. Somehow his voice had gotten even deeper… and sexier.

"Yes. I could've sworn I brought it in, but…" Molly sighed, looking down at the ground.

"One moment." Sherlock answered, walking into his bedroom. Molly let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as he walked away.

_ You could cut the tension with a knife…_

A few moments later, Sherlock returned, carrying a towel, some clothes and a comb, and set the pile into Molly's outstretched hand.

"Thank you." Molly smiled slightly, Sherlock stared at her for a moment, and his eyes appeared to be focused on her bare shoulder that was peaking out from behind the door. Molly swallowed and pulled back into the bathroom, breathing heavily. Sherlock remained outside the door for a moment longer, before gently padding back to the living room.

_Holy fuck._

* * *

**What I wouldn't give to have Benedict Cumberbatch in my bathroom.**

**Ahem.**

**Speaking of Benedict, can I just say what a fucking sexy khan/John Harrison he makes in the new Star Trek movie? Cause god damn (Totally secretly rooted for Khan during the whole movie) That movie has way too many attractive men in it. Like seriously. They need to calm er down, or else my ovaries will not make it through the third movie.**

**IF they make a third movie.**

**Oh they better.**

**Anyway, yes! I threw in more devious Mary in there. She's starting to get out of control, although someone needs to give the pair of them a little... incentive. Mary's just keeping things spicy. **

**Although I worry that soon enough she will be knocking them out, stripping them and locking them in a bedroom together with a bottle of champagne...**

**Actually...**

**NO. ELLIE STAHP. YOU POOR SMUT DEPRIVED SOUL. YOU MUST MAKE THINGS MOVE NATURALLY YOU LITTLE SEX MONKEY.**

**Ok. Ok I'm good.**

**Jesus christ.**

**Anyway, i'll be updating soon guys! Review, favourite and follow!**

**_~Ellie._**

**P.S. Even if I do start a couple new fics, have no fear, I will still be updating this one, and I will make sure I finish it, I am having way too much fun with all this tension and romance.**


	11. Kisses and Dictionaries

**OH MY GAWD HELLO.**

***presses finger to your lips***

**Shhhhh.**

**I know.**

***pats your head***

**I know.**

**So it's been a while since i've updated, but may I just say...**

**WOW.**

**I have reached 100 reviews, and 100 followers, and I'm almost at 50 favourites I believe! AND I'M ONLY ON THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER!**

**You guys are majestic fucking unicorns.**

**No but seriously, this is amazing. I can't tell you how much it means to me that over a hundred people actually are reading and enjoying my work! Like that just blows my mind. I can't believe it! You guys are motivating me so much and enforcing it in my mind that someday, I want to be a writer! So thank you all! I love you!**

**Ok. So I've been really busy. I just started school again, and I've already got homework. **

**All aboard the nopetrain to fuckthatville.**

**I've also been having troubles with . Whenever I try to log onto my account via the love of my life (my laptop) it always starts loading me onto my account, but then it just brings me to this blank page, I refresh, I try to log in again. It's a complete clusterfuck. **

**So now, when I want to update, I have to email my writing to myself (forever alone) then I have to go on my parents computer, log on to my email and fanfiction, copy and paste and all that bull, and now I am currently sitting on my parents computer hoping Mum doesn't walk in and ask what I'm doing as I type this message to you.**

**Anyway, this is just a sort of continuation of the last chaptaa. Mary's so devious! So glad you all love her, and also, at least one of you noticed I used a song from Lord of the Rings last chapter. I just get chills whenever that song comes on, it's so beautiful, so I had to include it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Mary was clever.

And despite her mischievous ways, she was definitely Sherlock's favourite out of all of John's girlfriends.

Sherlock staggered back into the living room, trying to put as much space as possible in between him and the naked, wet Molly that was in his bathroom. The naked, wet Molly that smelled like him, that had such creamy pale skin. It took ever ounce of strength in him not to reach out and gently nip the section where her neck met her shoulder.

Sherlock sat down on the couch, and put his feet up on the coffee table. Not a second later, Mary and John waltzed into the living area together, both clad in a pair of John's rumpled pajamas.

"Mary." Sherlock said, shifting his gaze over to the shameless doctor.

"Are you alright Sherlock? You look a little flustered." Mary asked, feigning concern for him. Sherlock now turned his head fully and glared at Mary. John chuckled in the background.

"I will get you back." Sherlock warned. Mary smirked.

"You should be thanking me." She stated.

"For putting me through continuous torture?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh but I think you like the torture." Mary winked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to look at the wall again, when movement in the hallway caught his eye.

Molly was standing nervously at the end of the hallway, shifting her weight on her feet. But Sherlock barely focused on Molly's movements; instead, he was more focused on the fact that she was clad only in a towel, which was wrapped underneath her arms.

Sherlock's breath caught in his throat, and Mary turned and gave him a knowing smirk. Sherlock threw a warning glance at her and turned his attention Molly.

"Follow me." Sherlock commanded, standing up and walking briskly to his bedroom, trying not to focus on the fact that Molly's shoulders were bare, as well as her neck. Her long legs stuck out too. They looked so smooth, so soft…what he wouldn't give to pull her towards him…

Stop.

Sherlock quickly walked towards his dresser and pulled out an old set of pajama pants and a softer button up shirt for Molly, along with a pair of warm brown socks. Sherlock set them all on his bed and left Molly behind in his bedroom, shutting the door firmly, as if he was shutting away his lustful thoughts as well.

* * *

Molly stood in Sherlock's bedroom for a moment, catching her breath. In the space of five minutes, Sherlock had seen her half naked twice. She felt as if she was going to have a heart attack. And now, she had to put on his clothes.

Molly gingerly picked up the button up, and let her towel drop, and trying not to focus on the fact that she was naked in Sherlock's bedroom. Instead, she focused her mind on buttoning the dark green shirt up, and slipping on the soft grey pajama pants (Molly was surprised he even owned a pair.) As soon as she was fully dressed Molly pulled the pair of warm thick brown socks Sherlock had left out for her.

Studying herself in the mirror, Molly blushed at the fact that she enjoyed wearing Sherlock's clothing… a lot.

Molly drew a deep breath in and steeled herself. As soon as she was calm and ready, she opened Sherlock's door and walked out into the living room.

She forced her eyes to focus on John and Mary, who were standing behind the couch speaking quietly, instead of on the man who was studying her from the couch. She made her face as impassive as possible and sat next to him, turning slightly to join in on Mary and John's conversation.

"Are you sure? I mean I've never stayed over here before." Mary asked, gripping John's hand in hers.

"It's fine Mary, just don't touch Sherlock's stuff and let me inspect the fridge for body parts before you go rooting around in there." John joked. Molly looked over to Sherlock who was rolling his eyes at John.

"I haven't gotten body parts for an experiment for a week John. You know that."

"Yeah, what's with that? Usually by now you'd at least have a hand in there." John asked, dragging Mary over to the two small armchairs.

"Busy." Sherlock answered, waving John off. However, there was a glint in Mary's eyes, and Molly didn't like it one bit.

Molly sighed and ignored the conversation for a bit, studying the unrelenting rain that still poured outside. Molly really didn't want to leave the cozy confines of 221b Baker Street. You would think one would get annoyed with the continuous clutter that adorned the little flat, but it was actually quite comforting. The home was a little bit like an old book, with discoloured pages and a worn spine, it held the promise of little secrets to be found, old memories to relive, and new ones to be made.

No Molly really didn't want to leave yet. She wanted to stay on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, sitting next to Sherlock as she listened to the rumble of thunder, and the background conversations that went on as she contemplated all of her surroundings.

But, unlike Mary, Molly was not dating any of the inhabitants, and it would be rude to let a little rain become an excuse for her staying at 221b, simply because she didn't want to leave.

Just as Molly decided this, a large boom of thunder rumbled, and Molly was surprised with how loud it was. All conversation stopped as they all waited for this set of thunder to end.

"God it's really storming out there." John muttered under his breath.

"I better leave now before it gets worse." Molly announced, reluctantly sitting up.

"Leave?" Sherlock demanded, finally speaking up after a while of searching his mind palace, no doubt.

"Yeah, I'll just get a cab and… shit." Molly sighed, bringing her palm to her forehead. "I have no money… do you mind if I just borrow a few pounds for a cab ride home? I'll pay you back next time I see you." Molly asked, feeling uncomfortable having to ask for money. Sherlock frowned.

"No." Sherlock stated, offering no room for argument. Molly shifted slightly and nodded.

"Alright then, I'll walk." She said, surprised that Sherlock really would make her walk home in the rain. John looked as if he was about to say something when Sherlock interjected.

"No, you're not going to walk either, you're going to stay here of course." Sherlock said simply, before getting up and grabbing his violin before anyone could say otherwise. Molly looked at Sherlock in surprise. She had expected for John to possibly argue, but not Sherlock.

"I couldn't, it's okay Sherlock, if you just give me money for a cab I can get a ride home." Molly reasoned. She didn't want to be an inconvenience, and well, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, the thought of staying at Sherlock's for the night was… well, delightfully tempting. Too tempting for her own good.

Sherlock glanced at her, not looking at all like he was going to back down. "In this weather?" He asked, gesturing out towards the window with his bow. A flash of lightning coloured the room for a moment, proving Sherlock's point even more.

"It's just a little bit of rain…" Molly argued half-heartedly, looking out at the darkened afternoon sky. Was it even possible for it to be that dark out when it was only 1?

"Molly." Sherlock groaned, throwing her a look. Molly met his eyes, putting on her best look of defiance, and Sherlock smirked, a challenge in his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary and John watching the pair, their eyes flicking back and forth between the two as if they were watching a tennis match. This continued for a moment, and the only sound in the room was the sound of rain thundering on the roof. Finally Molly backed down, huffing angrily. She stalked over to the couch and reclaimed her old seat. Sherlock turned and tested his violin, bringing his bow over the strings slightly.

"Where will I sleep?" Molly demanded before Sherlock could start playing his violin, falling into his deep thinking process. Sherlock turned to her and smirked.

"My room of course." He said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"What?" Molly half yelled. As soon as she did, she clamped her hands over her mouth, surprised at her reaction. Mary and John looked as if they were holding in their laughter.

"Really it's the only logical solution. John and Mary will no doubt be in John's room, I don't think you want to join them there. There's the couch, but why take that when there's a bed, a bed that I hardly use? I just slept two days ago; I don't need sleep right now." Sherlock explained. Molly closed her eyes, trying to process what Sherlock was saying, and at the same time control her wild thoughts and fantasies.

"Unless the ideas so disgusting to you." Molly's eyes snapped open, and she looked up at Sherlock in embarrassment.

"Of course not! That's not what I was… ugh." Molly groaned, clapping a hand over her eyes.

"Fine!" She sighed, springing up from her seat, grabbing the first book she saw off of the shelf, and pacing off to the bedroom. Sherlock's bedroom.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be reading." Molly announced to the room, before quickly shutting the door behind her and holding up the book. Molly let out a defeated groan when she noticed that the book she had picked up… was the dictionary.

* * *

After looking up some interesting words and adding some new ones to her vocabulary for 10 minutes, Molly grew very bored, just as she was about to start going through Sherlock's bedside table, the sound of a violin starting up distracted her.

Sherlock played a simple song first, something he'd obviously played before, but then, he slowly transitioned into something Molly hadn't ever heard him play. It was a complicated melody, but it was beautiful, very comforting and peaceful, and with the rain in the background… Molly thought that she had never heard anything as lovely as this.

She slowly got up, careful to not make a sound so Sherlock wouldn't hear her and stop. As soon as she was up to the door, she gently opened it slightly and peered out, allowing herself a little peek.

Sherlock was standing beside the window, looking out. Molly could clearly see his tall and lean silhouette against the rainy backdrop, as he worked the violin and caused it to create the melody. John and Mary were nowhere in sight, they must've gone upstairs. Molly rested her head against the doorframe and watched him for a few minutes, a fond smile painting her face.

Eventually Molly closed the door, and settled back onto Sherlock's bed, allowing his scent to torture her as she slipped beneath the warmth of the covers.

Molly snuggled deep into the pillow, letting the beating rain coupled with the beautiful violin music lull her to sleep.

* * *

Sherlock continued playing the instrument long after Molly had stopped watching him. He, of course, knew she was there the whole time.

So he played this new song. It had come to him suddenly, the notes forming in his mind. He hadn't even needed to write it down, it all just came to him, flooding his mind like a wave. His fingers worked the violin like they had a mind of their own, as his brain became occupied with thoughts of Molly.

Eventually, 1 turned into 2, and 2 to 3. Finally when the clock stroke 4, Sherlock set his violin down and flexed his stiff fingers. It wasn't unusual for Sherlock to play his violin for hours at a time, but he rarely played for this long when he wasn't on a case.

Sherlock wandered around he apartment, trying to keep himself occupied, and trying to ignore the fact that Molly was just inside his bedroom. She hadn't come out for the full 3 hours he had been playing for. Eventually, Sherlock's curiosity won over, and he quickly waltzed over to his bedroom door, cracking it open slightly.

Sherlock smiled to himself as he took in the scene before him. Molly was snuggled against his pillow, a peaceful look on her face, and her hair completely sprawled out around her. She was curled into a small ball, and she looked completely content. Sherlock allowed himself a few moments to study her, and was about to close the door, when an idea hit him. And an idea, once planted, was hard to get rid of.

And so Sherlock tiptoed over to the soundly sleeping Molly, and got down on his knees beside her. Quickly, he leaned in and planted a single kiss to her soft cheek. After the kiss, he hovered slightly, reveling in Molly's scent and warmth, until he could bear it no longer. If he didn't move away now, he wouldn't be able to help himself from climbing in next to her.

He stumbled away, and allowed himself one more glance before he closed the door behind him. Molly was a dangerous temptation. A delicious torture.

And Sherlock loved every minute of it.

* * *

**MUHAHAHAHA! I love flustered Molly, and I love flustered Sherlock even more.**

**Anyway, expect an update soon. **

**Maybe.**

**No no I promise to have it out within a week! Anyway, I hope you guys loved it! I am so happy that you're all reviewing! It's amazing that this many people are enjoying what I write! Thank you so much.**

**Have some cookies you little scamps.**

**Review, favourite, follow.**

**~Ellie**

**P.S. OK SO TODAY OK. I WAS JUST SITTING IN THE KITCHEN MINDING MY OWN FREAKING BUSINESS WHEN MOM TURNS ON THE TV IN THE KITCHEN. AND WHAT DO YOU THINK IS ON? WHAT DO YOU THINK IS ON? FORREST GUMP. IT'S RIGHT AT THE ENDING SO I WATCH IT A LITTLE, AND OF COURSE I START CRYING. Just thought I'd share with you guys that I'm a total wimp.**

**P.S.S. Oh, by the way, yesterday, when I was getting ready for school, I was upstairs in my bathroom and I heard on the TV downstairs "Benedict Cumberbatch is in Toronto." I literately threw myself down the stairs and ran straight to the TV. Ben was on the news, cause he was in Toronto for the Toronto film festival. Anyway, after he was off the news I literately started squealing and jumping up and down and Mum just gave me this look and deeply sighed. **

**I react to my favourite actors names faster than I do my own.**

**I have no life.**

**And I don't even care. **

**P.S.S.S.**

**If Ben was in Canada, that means that for a short while, we were in the same country. **

***falls into a ball and starts sobbing.* **

**If only I wasn't so far away from Toronto.**

**GAWD.**


	12. That Shirt

**CHAPTER 12 GUYS.**

**I can't believe I've made it this far, because usually I just procrastinate on everything. **

**BUT I'VE MADE IT TO TWELVE CHAPTERS.**

**aw yeah.**

**AND OH MAH GAWD GUYS GUESS WHAT?**

**I'VE GOTTON ONE OF MY FRIENDS INTO SHERLOCK.**

**My friend Jonathan and I always talk about british television, and one day I was like "man I can't wait for Sherlock series three!" And he was all like "Lol, wuts Sherlock?" ANd I wAS LIKE "OMFG DON'T EVEN ASK THAT QUESTION UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU THE WHOLE PLOT LIKE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST." **

**So long story short Jonathan watched all 6 episodes. So I now have someone to talk to about my feels.**

**Unfortunately...**

**He does not ship Sherlolly.**

***Screams with the rage and fire of 1000 suns.***

**lol.**

**I think Jonathan ships Shirene. He told me that his favourite character was Irene in these exact words:**

**"Irenes my favourite, though I can assure you it's not because when she first shows up on screen she's naked."**

**Anyway, if he ships Shirene that's fine. I actually ship it a little too, but it's not my OTP. That will always and forever be Sherlolly. I just wish that one of my friends watched Sherlock and shipped Sherlolly like meeeeh.**

**Anyway, about this chapter. Lot's of sexual tension. Like more than usual. I decided that this chapter I'm gonna explore the sexual attraction side to their relationship as it grows, and then next chapter is gonna explore a lot of emotion. **

**Like a lot of emotion.**

**So prepare yourselves, it's gonna be angsty, but not in a bad way.**

**Actually for the next few chapters I'm gonna be exploring the emotional side to things, since I've been focussing on the sex part a lot. **

**What can I say? Sherlolly smut is my weakness.**

**Anyway! ENJOY.**

* * *

Molly was very sexually frustrated.

So much she was about to burst.

Ever since that goddamned foot rub (even before then) Sherlock was always in her mind.

Sherlock and his beautiful black curls that she just wanted to run her fingers through.

His deep baritone that was constantly running through her head, whispering sweet nothings and things that would make her blush.

Those long, violinist fingers. Oh the things he could likely do with his fingers. Molly could only imagine.

His eyes. His cheekbones. His scent (which seemed to always surround her, ever since she had slept in his bed)

Yes, Molly was very frustrated. And Mary noticed.

"Molly." Mary called, forcing Molly out of a fantasy in which Sherlock stormed into the lab and forcefully lifted her onto one of he tables, kissing her with a frantic need-

"MOLLY!" Mary yelled, waving her hand in front of her best friends face.

"Hmm?" Molly hummed, looking up from her paperwork, dazed.

Mary studied Molly, who was perched on a stool in the lab, and sighed deeply.

"Dear god you need to get laid." Mary said, her voice full of pity. Molly gasped and a blush started to creep up to her cheeks.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mary…" Molly murmured, forcing herself to stop thinking about how Sherlock was in bed and instead focus on Joseph Stewart's death certificate.

"Oh honey, ever since Sherlock sent you those flowers on Easter… you've been a hot mess." Mary lamented. Molly looked up from her paperwork and fixed Mary with a hard glance.

"I have not." Molly defended.

"Have too." Mary sang.

"Have not!" Molly said, slapping her pen down on the table.

"Have too! I swear to god, every time I'm around you and Sherlock I feel like yelling out 'Jesus Christ will you two just fuck each other already?'" Mary exclaimed. Molly scoffed and tried to wave Mary off, but she knew Mary was right, the tension between her and Sherlock increased with every passing day. Whenever they were in the same room together the air practically hummed with sexual tension.

"Don't you scoff at me! I have PhD in-"

"A PhD in SEX I know!" Molly groaned, her head dramatically falling down to rest against the edge of the table.

"I know, I know, I know! I am completely frustrated. I can't even look at Sherlock anymore without my mind automatically flicking to sex." Molly admitted, her eyes focused on her feet beneath her. She felt Mary put a comforting hand on her back, gently rubbing circles there.

"There, there." She comforted. Molly groaned.

"What are you waiting for? Why don't you two just do it already?" Mary asked, gently prodding.

"I- I don't really know." Molly confessed, bringing her head up and meeting Mary's eyes.

"As much as I want to kiss Sherlock senseless, I just… maybe it's silly of me, but I just want him to confess his feelings first. I'd like to know exactly where we were heading before I get him in the sack and do something we'll both end up regretting." Molly sighed, looking down at the folded hands in her lap.

"But I thought you were positive that Sherlock cared for you?" Mary asked, cocking and eyebrow and crossing her arms. Molly huffed in aggravation.

"I am! Mostly… it's just… I don't know what he wants to do with those feelings! He's Sherlock; I never know what's exactly going on in that head of his! For all I know he could just want a quick shag and then go on as we have been now." Molly explained, laying all of her confusing feelings out on the line.

"But that's not what you want." Mary stated, not asking, because she understood and knew.

"No." Molly frowned, placing her head in her hands, and rubbing her tired eyes. "That's not what I want at all."  
"Do you know how long it could take for Sherlock to realize his feelings, let alone confess them?" Mary asked, sitting in the stool next to Molly. Molly separated her fingers and looked at Mary through the cracks in between.

"Well that's the problem isn't it?"

"I have to use the lab, Molly." called a familiar voice from behind the pair of women. Molly steeled herself and turned around.

Oh god.

He was wearing the shirt.

The purple shirt.

The one that fit his frame so perfectly, stretching taut against his skin, giving her a little bit of a glimpse at the lean muscles beneath. And the colour, the deep purple went so well with his pale skin, midnight hair, and always-changing kaleidoscope eyes. Molly nearly launched herself at him right then; somehow she managed to keep herself restrained. However, a small barely audible groan left her mouth as she watched him walk across the lab, over to one of the microscopes. Only then did she realize that he was wearing jeans.

Jeans.

_'Why do I never have it easy?'_ Molly asked herself. Sherlock never wore jeans; he almost always wore dress pants. That was not the case today, though. Today, Sherlock wore a pair of dark wash jeans, so dark they were almost black actually, and they fit him perfectly. Molly would be lying if she said she didn't notice how delightful his arse looked in them.

As she was thinking all of this through, Sherlock had walked over to the microscope and was currently studying a slide, and Mary was chatting with John, throwing Molly a sympathetic and understanding look over her boyfriends shoulder. Molly merely bit her lip hard in response, letting here eyes flick over Sherlock again.

This was not helping at all.

And so, Molly pretended to do her paperwork, while instead she was fantasizing about Sherlock and his purple shirt and jeans. She had been about to get to the good part of her fantasy when she felt someone tap her shoulder.

Molly whirled around and was met with the sight of John, who had one eyebrow raised and a little teasing smile tugging on his lips.

"Mary and I are going to lunch, he explained, gesturing over to Mary who was grabbing their coats. Molly nodded.

"Ok, I'll see you guys later." Molly said.

"Do you want to come?" John asked. For a moment, Molly considered, but she had a lot of paperwork to do, and if she didn't finish it now, she was going to be at the morgue until midnight most likely. No she needed to finish her work.

"Thanks, but I'm swamped, you two have fun." Molly smiled. John nodded and walked over, grabbing Mary's hand as the two walked out of the morgue, laughing as they went. For a moment, Molly felt a flicker of envy, John and Mary could so easily be together, there were hardly any complications, they both knew that they cared for each other and they weren't afraid to show their feelings.

Molly huffed and forced herself to focus on the paperwork in front of her, and not the frustratingly sexy consulting detective who sat on the other side of the room.

* * *

Sherlock sat, intently focused on the bacterium that was swirling on his slide, and not on the pathologist who was currently playing with her hair as she worked on the papers set in front of her. No, Sherlock was intently focused on his slide.

_ Mostly._

Molly hadn't spoken a word to him since he arrived, and she seemed… agitated.

Immediately, Sherlock wondered what he had done now, and how many bouquets of purple daisies it would take to get her to forgive him now. However, Sherlock couldn't for the life of him remember anything he had said to the pathologist in the past couple days since he'd last seen her that could've made her upset and angry enough with him to ignore him.

So, Sherlock was stumped.

That was a hard thing for him to admit.

And he didn't like it one bit.

So he had to figure it out.

"Molly." Sherlock asked. His eyes were set on the pathologist as he walked slowly over to where she sat, on the other side of the lab. Molly's head snapped up and she looked up at Sherlock in surprise, and then, her eyes darkened with another look, one that Sherlock thought he recognized. He would need further investigation of course.

"What is… wrong?" He asked, frowning slightly, and tilting his head at Molly. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as she stared at him, and she suddenly flushed.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?" Molly said quickly, looking nervously around the lab.

"You seem agitated." Sherlock explained. He and Molly were on separate sides of the table, so Sherlock leaned over it, resting his elbows on the table as he inspected Molly closer. She swallowed and refused to meet his eyes.

"I'm fine Sherlock, really." Molly said, looking off to the side. Sherlock internally groaned. When she looked off to the side like that, her neck was on perfect display, the creamy skin deliciously taunting him. He could see her pulse point thrumming under her skin…

Molly looked at him then, straight in his eyes, and Sherlock's breath caught when he saw that Molly's pupils were dilated, her eyes were darkened with the same look he had noticed when she had first looked at him, one that he now knew…

Was lust.

Oh dear god.

It all made sense now… Molly was agitated, but not in an angry way. Sherlock stared Molly down, and considered his options. He knew he should probably stop whatever this was turning into, because if he and Molly kissed now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He was a shaken bottle, waiting to explode with the first twist of the cap. No, Sherlock knew, if he even so much as touched his lips to Molly's in the barest of caresses, his body would completely take over.

But… would that be such a bad thing? He still wasn't 100% sure of his emotions, perhaps it would be inadvisable to do this now… and they were in a lab, Sherlock wasn't sure how comfortable that may be.

Sherlock mulled all this over, and had just decided his course of action when Molly broke the silence.

"Get out." She whispered. Sherlock focused on her eyes, surprised. The arousal was still there, but it was deeper, less up front. Now, she had a steeled and determined look covering it. Sherlock straightened, and Molly moved around the table, and put her hands firmly on his back, pushing him towards the door.

"Molly? What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, fighting against her. But Molly, even though she was so small, was surprisingly strong. His feet took him unwillingly to the door.

"You need to leave." Molly explained, her voice allowing no room for argument. Sherlock turned, and broke from her grasp right in front of the door.

"Why? What did I do?" Sherlock demanded, completely befuddled.

Molly opened the door, which Sherlock had been leaning on, so when it swung open, he stumbled out into the empty hospital hallway. Normally, Sherlock would have better reflexes and a better thought process. But right now, his mind was still clouded with arousal and that look in Molly's eyes.

"Molly! What did I do?" Sherlock demanded. Molly grabbed his coat from inside the lab and threw it at him forcefully.

"You wore that freaking shirt!" Molly yelled, before she closed the door firmly and slid the lock in, locking Sherlock out of the lab.

* * *

John groaned in frustration as his cell phone went off. He and Mary parted, and he looked down at her, a question in his eyes. Mary gave him a small smile and nodded. John regretfully disentangled himself from Mary and hopped off the couch, grabbing his phone where it sat on the coffee table.

_Kicked out of the lab, Lestrade called, says he has something interesting -SH_

"What is it?" Mary asked, sitting up and re buttoning her shirt. John showed her the text.

"Oh my god, ask him why he was kicked out." Mary smiled, leaning against John to watch as he texted Sherlock back.

_What did you say to Molly this time Sherlock? –JW_

"Oh god I hope they're not fighting…" John groaned.

"Oh they'll be fine, Sherlock was probably just being an ass." Mary reassured. A few seconds later his phone went off.

_Absolutely nothing. I asked her what I had done and she simply said 'you wore that shirt' and locked me out –SH_

John frowned at his message and showed it to Mary, who read it quickly and broke into a fit of laughter.

"What? What is it?" John asked as she had calmed down. Mary giggled and took a deep breath, and started explaining Molly's current predicament.

"So she kicked Sherlock out of the lab because he was too… appealing to her in that shirt?" John asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yep." Mary nodded. Her and John looked at each other, and started laughing all over again.

"Poor sod. Should I explain it to him?" John asked, looking at his phone again. Mary shook her head.

"No, let's just let him figure it out on his own." Mary smiled. John nodded in agreement, moving to continue their previous activities. Both he and Mary let out a huff of exasperation as John's phone went off again.

"What does he want now?" Mary asked, not bothering to sit up or redo her buttons.

John sighed deeply. "Lestrade has a case for us. Apparently, according to Sherlock, it's an 8… and Sherlock say's that he'll have to go to Dublin." John explained, looking at Mary with a guilty expression. All of his past girlfriends had always broken up with him because he was always 'off gallivanting with Sherlock.' John wondered sorrowfully if that was what was going to break him and Mary up, his loyalty to Sherlock. He had left her before to go on cases, but never had he gone out of town on her before. In the four months he had been dating her, Sherlock hadn't really had any big cases, or he hadn't had an 8 least.

Mary sat up, and grabbed his phone, inspecting the message. She then stood up and walked out of the living room, and John's heart skipped a beat. Oh god, she must be mad at him. He was about to go and follow her, and try to get her to understand and forgive him, when she walked back into the living room, John's jacket in her hand.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go kill some criminals for me." Mary said, holding John's jacket out too him. As John stared at her, he couldn't stop the huge grin that spread on his face. Mary smiled slyly back at him, and John sprang up from his seat and put on his coat, pulling Mary down the hallway and towards the front door.

When they had reached the door, John turned and grabbed her, kissing her for all he was worth. How had he landed the perfect girl?

"Go on, you have a date with some Irish baddy's." Mary teased, opening up the door for him. John nodded and started to walk out. He could feel Mary's eyes on him as he stepped outside into the surprisingly warm day. As John squinted up at the shining sun, he was struck with a sudden emotion. One that he knew and he couldn't ignore.

Turning quickly on his heel, John climbed back up the steps and went back to a confused Mary, who was leaning on her doorframe.

"Did you forget something?" She asked, standing up straight.

"Yes." John muttered, pulling her into a hug, he breathed her scent in deeply, and allowed himself to be engulfed by the wave of emotions that hit him. John pulled back, and nervously swallowed.

"Mary, I… I think, I mean, you're so…" John stuttered, trying to find the perfect words. He had dated many girls, but he had never told any of them that he loved them. This was harder than he expected. Mary was looking at him with confusion, but as she looked at him more closely, her eyes seemed to clear.

"I love you too, John." Mary smiled up at him. John looked at her in surprise. How did she know so easily what he was thinking and feeling?

"I love you." John murmured, laughing slightly and pulling her into one last kiss before turning back and hailing a cab.

Just as he was about to get in and pay the cabby, Mary yelled from her stoop.

"I've been waiting for you to say that for four months you git!" John laughed heartily and ducked into his cab, feeling higher than he had in a long time.

* * *

"JOHN WATSON TOLD ME HE LOVES ME." Mary sang out, brushing past a very surprised Molly. Molly's eyebrows rose.

"What?" She asked, closing her apartment door quickly so she didn't bother any neighbors. Mary danced around the flat for minute before she sat down on the couch.

"He was leaving to go on a case with Sherlock, and as he was leaving, he just turned to me and started trying to say it. He was so flustered! So I beat him to it, and then he said it back and oh my god Molly, I don't think I've ever been so happy!" Mary gushed, hugging a pillow to her chest. Molly beamed at her friend and jumped onto the sofa beside her.

"Oh Mary, I'm so happy for you!" Molly said truthfully.

"I- I don't want to jinx it, but Molly, I really think, I mean I just really feel like…"

"Like you want to get married to John Watson in a big church wedding, move to the suburbs and have a whole horde of rug rats together?" Molly finished for her friend, grinning mischievously. Mary wasn't the only one who could joke.

"I'm thinking a spring wedding, that way it will be warm, but not too hot, ya know?" Mary smiled, playing along with Molly's joke. Both women giggled with glee.

When they calmed down, Mary fixed her stare on Molly.

"So, anything you want to talk about?" She asked slyly, her voice heavy with implications. Molly rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I was being a little overdramatic, kicking him out. But oh my god Mary, he walked towards me and started asking me what was wrong, and he got really fucking close! I could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying figure out what was wrong with me. And when he did…" Molly took a deep breath. "Mary, if I hadn't kicked him out, I think he would've kissed me."

"Oh for the love of god! Why did you kick him out then?" Mary demanded.

"I had work to do!" Molly defended. Molly barely dodged the pillow that was thrown forcefully at her head.

"It's not supposed to be this hard! JUST SCREW EACH OTHER ALREADY!" Mary yelled out, her hands flying into the air as she expressed just how aggravated she was.

"It's not that simple either!" Molly said.

"Yes it is." Mary nodded.

"No, it isn't." Molly shot back.

"I swear Molly, I am going to lock you and Sherlock in a bedroom together with some champagne and condoms real soon if you don't take matters into your own hands." Mary threatened, looking completely 100% serious.

"You wouldn't dare." Molly murmured, her eyes narrowing. Mary's face steeled.

"Try me." She taunted, crossing her arms.

"ARGH!" Molly yelled out, pressing her face into the couch cushion to muffle her screams.

"You poor sex depraved soul." Mary said, her voice full of pity. Molly lifted her face from the cushions and glared at Mary.

"Listen, just let me take care of this. I'll be fine, just let me try to figure out what his feelings are before you lock us in a room together." Molly pleaded; Mary scrutinized her for a moment, before she finally relented.

"Fine. But if you two aren't going at it within… 5 months, I will do something about it." Mary reassured.

"Great..." Molly sighed, pushing her head back into the couch cushion.

* * *

**JOMARY! SHERLOLLY! JOMARY! SHERLOLLY! YEAHHHHH *pukes out rainbows***

**I hope you all liked my little Mary and John moment with them saying I love you and stuff. I'm not gonna say to much, but their relationship will greatly effect Molly's and Sherlock's. AND some interesting stuff may or may not happen at an upcoming event in John and Mary's future.. Ahem.**

**Last night Mum and I watched Star Trek Into Darkness since it came out on DVD in Canada.**

**Mum thinks Benedict Cumberbatch is funny looking.**

***Flails onto the ground and dies***

***heaves big sigh***

**No one understands me or my love for thirty seven year old men.**

**Angst.**

**Anyway, hope you liked this chapter, and ready yourself for some emotions in the next! **

**~Ellie**


	13. Here

**Sorry guys, I've been really busy with school, and *gasp* SpOrTS?**

**I know, I actually made my schools girls soccer team (football for you brits!) This really confuses me though, since i'm not exactly and exercise enthusiast...**

**I fucking hate exercise actually. **

**But I still made it, so that means I have practices every day after school, along with Piano on Wednesdays, and Drama club should be starting up soon too. I tried out for the volleyball team too. I am a very busy girl.**

**OH BTW. **

**I got called a dominatrix today, by my guy friend who watches Sherlock. Jonathan, remember?**

**I was talking about how I really wanted to hit someone in the face during gym, and he was all like "Careful Elyse, you're turning into an Irene." And then I started laughing really hard because I imagined myself as a dominatrix. That would be really fucking hilarious.**

**Client: "Spank me"**

**Me: *Spanks u***

**Me: OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY ARE YOU OKAY DID THAT HURT OMIGOD I'M SO SORRY DO YOU NEED A BANDAID? I'VE GOT SPONGEBOB ONES IN THE BATHROOM. OH MY GOD DON'T SUE ME I'M SORRY I'LL JUST GO FLING MYSELF INTO OBLIVION NOW.**

**Yep. I like it rough. *winks***

**Anyway, this chapter is a little sad. Be prepared.**

* * *

Sherlock walked down the familiar hallways of St. Bartholomew's hospital, willing his feet to go faster, itching with excitement at the prospect of telling Molly all about the case he had just solved.

It had taken him three days, a lot of close calls, and a lot of chasing, but eventually, John and Sherlock had gotten the serial killer, and as soon as they had arrived back home from Dublin, Sherlock had immediately gone to St. Bart's. As Sherlock had opened the door, prepared to set out, after he had just set his luggage down, John had given him a smug smile, which Sherlock had chosen to ignore. John had been prodding him with questions the whole weekend.

_"So, anything you want to talk about Sherlock?" John had asked as they sat in the 'borrowed car' keeping watch and waiting for the criminal to walk out of the so-called abandoned house._

_ "The tone of your voice would imply that you believe I have something I need to express, and are taking this opportunity to nag me about it. A most inopportune moment I might add, as the serial killer could walk out of that door any moment, and how am I supposed to give the idiots the signal if my attention is not completely focused on the task?" Sherlock countered, referring to the police squad a couple streets down as 'idiots.' Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw John roll his eyes._

_ "God, no beating around the bush with you huh? Ok, I'll cut to the chase, what are you're feelings for Molly?" John asked bluntly._

_ "Serial killer John." Sherlock reminded him._

_ "Sherlock, if the serial killer does come out of that door, you'll be able to take care of it without barely lifting a finger. Don't avoid the question."_

_ Sherlock lips quirked upwards slightly at John's disgruntled and impatient attitude._

_ "Dr. Hooper is a very intelligen-"_

_ "Oh no you don't. None of that 'Dr. Hooper' bull Sherlock, we're talking about Molly, and the fact that you two obviously have feelings for each other." John interrupted._

_ "And what makes you think that?" Sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow at his friend and leaning back in his seat._

_ "Oh maybe because whenever you two are in a room together the air practically hums with tension. For god sakes she kicked you out of the morgue because you were too "attractive" Sherlock!" John exclaimed. Sherlock instantly perked up._

_ "That's why she kicked me out?" Sherlock asked, holding his hands against his mouth in prayer position. John's eyebrows rose in surprise._

_ "You hadn't worked it out yet?" He asked._

_ Sherlock gave out an aggravated huff. "Women confuse me." Sherlock shrugged. John chuckled under his breath and nodded._

_ "Get used to it."_

_ "I'll try." Sherlock answered dryly. Suddenly, Sherlock spotted a man walk out the side door of the old house they were watching. Sherlock unlocked the doors and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick text._

_ "We better get going, the police will be here soon." Sherlock said simply, getting out of the car. John followed him._

_ "Shouldn't we be here for the arrest?" John asked, trailing behind Sherlock as he walked down the street._

_ "No we have a serial killer to catch." Sherlock said easily, as if it were the simplest thing in the world._

_ "But I thought that's what we were doing?" John exclaimed, bewildered._

_ "No. The man you just saw walk out there is wanted for a simple robbery. Did you really think that a serial killer this smart would let me catch him that easy? He is simply a distraction for the police so I can catch this killer in peace." Sherlock explained, as his friend struggled to keep up both in the physical sense and the mental sense._

_ "So you're telling me that we just sat in a car for an hour, waiting for a robber to come out so you could distract the police." John repeated._

_ "That's it. Good job John." Sherlock mocked slightly, his excitement growing as they walked towards the more popular roads, where they could hail a cab._

_ Sherlock checked his phone quickly._

_ "The killer should be at the train station by now. Let's get a move on."_

Sherlock forced himself to focus as he stood in front of the door to the lab. Hopefully Molly wouldn't kick him out again for being 'too attractive.' He would have to make sure he asked her about that today. He could just imagine her blush…

As Sherlock stepped into the office, he was not greeted with the sight of his pathologist, perched on her stool, cheerfully writing autopsy reports. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of an empty, dark lab. Sherlock blinked, and looked around, quietly moving about the room. There were unfinished papers on the table in front of him, and a cold cup of coffee sat beside the mess.

"I'm in here Sherlock." He heard a small voice say behind him. He whirled around and immediately stalked towards the slightly open door of the small office, one that was mostly used for storing files and a small desk. Sherlock walked in, his eyes adjusting to darkness that engulfed the tiny room. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he took in the sight before him.

Molly was leaning against the desk, sitting on the tiled floor, her knees brought up to her chest. She was staring straight faced at the white wall in front off her. It didn't take a lot of intellect to know something was wrong. And so, Sherlock sunk to the floor, crossing his legs and facing Molly, not even bothering to take off his coat, all thoughts off his case being tucked into his mind palace for later.

They sat like that for a moment, and Molly refused to meet Sherlock's eyes. Eventually, Sherlock could take the silence no more.

"Molly?" Sherlock asked, his deep voice momentarily shattering the eerie serenity of the room.

"He died today. My dad. 5 years ago today." Molly said, her voice flat and emotionless, just like his whenever he was trying to hide what he was truly feeling. And honestly, it scared Sherlock slightly, to see Molly like this, so motionless and cold. Molly was usually very free with her feelings and thoughts, and to see her completely… blank. No, Sherlock didn't like this at all.

Sherlock's mind was spinning in circles, trying to figure out what to say. He couldn't sympathize, really. He had never been particularly close to his father, and had barely reacted when he had passed. But he knew that Molly and her father had had an extremely close relationship. As his mind searched for something to do, Molly spoke.

"When I woke up today I was fine. Mike had offered me the day off, but I had refused. I had thought I would be okay to go to work. And I was, until a body came in. She was a young woman, and as I was looking over her file, I saw that she was married. And then it just hit me. My dad will never walk me down the aisle; he'll never tell my children embarrassing stories about me as a kid. I'll never be able to send him a Christmas card or call him on his birthday, because he wont be there." Molly murmured, her voice growing louder and thicker with the threat of tears. Sherlock's heart clenched.

"And I know it's been 5 years, and I know that he was dead yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and my tears will do nothing to change it, but… I just want… Oh Sherlock." Molly cried, her voice cracking, the calm mask she had worn shattering into a million pieces as she finally broke down. Tears started streaming down her face in a non-stop torrent, as her sobs echoed through the empty room.

Before Sherlock knew what he was doing, before he could manage a clear thought, Molly was in his arms. He reacted on instinct, and pulled her to him, embracing her for all he was worth. Normally, Sherlock didn't enjoy touching other people, and when people wept in front of him, he felt no sadness or pity himself, but it seemed as if every sob and shake and tear that escaped from Molly was stabbing him directly in his heart.

Molly clambered onto his lap, and buried her face into his shoulder, trying to control her sobs. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her middle and idly rubbed her back, shushing her gently, and pressing gentle kisses to the side of her head. Really, he was acting so unlike himself, but he couldn't help it. Despite all of the sadness and grief that graced both of them right now, Sherlock couldn't help but think about how right all of this felt.

And so Molly wept. She wept for old memories, and for new ones that would never be, could never be. She wept for her father, and everything they had shared.

Eventually Molly's sobs quieted. Gently, she lifted her head from Sherlock's shoulder, her hands playing with the damp fabric.

"Sorry for crying all over you." Molly whispered, her voice hoarse from all of her sobbing. Sherlock's thumb traced patterns on her hip lightly, as he shook his head, silently telling her not to worry about that. Molly reluctantly slid one arm off his shoulder, to wipe her eyes gently with on sleeve of her lab coat. She took a deep breath and looked up at Sherlock.

"I think I'd like to go home." Molly murmured, laying her head against Sherlock chest lightly.

"I'll take you." Sherlock offered.

Molly smiled slightly at him, and nodded. Gingerly, she stood up, and Sherlock followed her. Together they walked out of the lab, locking doors, picking up papers and flipping switches as they went. As they did, Sherlock mused to himself that they had almost made an art of it, cleaning up the lab. They had left together so many times that there was a particular ease and familiarity to the task, one that comforted Sherlock, as what he had just experienced with Molly was so unfamiliar, he needed something routine, something solid that would ground him as he stepped into this uncharted territory.

Finally he and Molly set off in silence, to 221b Baker Street. They sat in the cab together, their thighs touching gently, as Molly fiddled with her hands, wringing them out slightly, something Sherlock noticed she did whenever she was nervous or uneasy. Sherlock gently reached out and grabbed Molly's hand, tracing an unseen pattern over the smooth skin on the back of her hand. Molly relaxed into the touch, a subtle glow spreading out and making her normally bright brown eyes just a little bit happier.

Sherlock watched her intently, as her eyes looked out the window, at the quickly passing evening London, he couldn't help the warm feeling that spread from the middle of his chest, to the tips of his fingers and toes. He had once heard love being described as a 'warm gushy feeling' and was beginning to understand it.

Finally they were back to 221b. John was with Mary no doubt, after three days apart; they were probably enjoying each other's company… vigorously. Mrs. Hudson was in her own flat, no doubt enjoying one of her soaps. They wouldn't be bothered tonight.

Sherlock hadn't let go of Molly's hand yet. He quickly unlocked the door and pulled them both in. As soon as they had passed the threshold, Sherlock had shed his jacket and scarf, hanging them up, before offering to take Molly's coat and bag. Molly quietly handed them to him, her eyes sweeping across the flat, until finally landing on Sherlock.

"Tea?" Sherlock asked, at a loss for words.

"Coffee." Molly murmured. Sherlock's mouth quirked upwards slightly, but he dutifully went and made her some coffee, making sure to make himself one too. He had a feeling he would need it.

Finally, he sat down on the worn couch beside Molly, handing her the coffee, which she took, gratefully. Sherlock settled down, and begun to sip at his cuppa, looking about the room, searching for what to say.

Molly wasn't crying anymore, but… she had this look in her eyes, on that Sherlock could only describe as lost. He knew that the social norm was to hug someone and tell them everything was going to be okay… but then… Sherlock had never been normal had he?

"Molly," Sherlock began, forcing Molly's attention to be cast upon him. Sherlock to a deep steadying breath.

"I'm not going to pretend I have any idea how to comfort you, I cannot sympathize, and I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it will all be okay, or pretend I know what death is like, or what happens after." Sherlock said slowly, wishing desperately for once that he could be normal and comfort Molly normally.

"I know." Molly said sadly, looking down into her cup, and fidgeting slightly.

Sherlock kept his eyes locked on her face. "But I'm here. And as long as you want me, I won't leave." Sherlock murmured, forcing himself to focus on Molly's face and Molly's face alone. Molly looked up slightly, her eyes glassy with new tears. They stared at each other for a moment, their gazes hard on one another. Molly choked out a strangled sob and launched herself across the couch and into Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around Molly in a vice tight grip, burying his face into her neck, and letting her tears soak his shoulder. This embrace, somehow… felt more meaningful than the one in the morgue. Over her small cries Molly was murmuring "thank you" into his neck. Sherlock didn't say anything, and just held her. Sherlock would never be normal. Sherlock couldn't sympathize well, and sometimes emotions completely baffled and confused him. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try, that didn't mean that Sherlock Holmes wouldn't try, for Molly Hooper.

* * *

"So… Molly's father died 5 years ago today?" John asked carefully, being lead by the hand of his girlfriend Mary, up to 221b Baker Street.

"Yeah, I was there when it happened. I've never seen Molly look so… so lost. It was a really terrible time, for her family and mine as well. Her dad was like a second father to me. I went and checked up on her today, she seemed fine, but I think I'll spend the night at her flat tonight. If you don't mind." Mary sighed, trekking up the stairs.

"Of course. I can keep myself occupied for one night without you darling." John teased slightly, getting his keys out of his pocket.

"I know, but what we do together is _so_ much more fun than anything you could do by yourself." Mary replied cheekily. John chuckled slightly.

"This is true." He said as he and Mary stepped into the door.

"Oh…" Mary exclaimed, taking in the sight before her, her eyes widening.

John too, felt his eyebrows rise. There, on the couch, was Sherlock and Molly, in a tangle of limbs… fast asleep.

"Fuck… _yes_." Mary whispered, doing a little dance.

John sighed and rolled his eyes at her slightly, tip toeing over to the pair on the couch.

"My god they're actually sleeping." John murmured. Mary walked quietly over to stand beside him.

"Molly looks like she's been crying." Mary commented.

"Probably. But Jesus, did Sherlock comfort her?" John asked.

"Well, based on the evidence, I'm going to have to guess yes." Mary smiled, pulling her and John over to the stairs.

"Here, let's leave them be." She muttered.

"Mary Morstan, actually leaving someone be, for once? The world is ending." John exclaimed, following her up the stairs to his room.

"Shut up, or I'll make sure to leave you be." Mary threatened, the double meaning to her words perfectly clear.

"Yes Mam." John replied, saluting.

* * *

Molly blinked several times, staring down at the cascade of curls in front of her. This was very hard to believe. She had fallen asleep on the couch with Sherlock Holmes, who was currently cuddled up into her neck, sleeping soundly.

Molly shifted awkwardly in Sherlock's arms to look at the clock. It was nearly 11 pm. Molly sighed, and weighed her options. She really had to go home, she had work to do tomorrow. But… she was so, so, so comfortable on the couch with Sherlock, and she really didn't want to wake him up. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Innocent, almost, which was something you hardly saw in Sherlock.

But, Molly's conscience won over, and so, she wriggled out of Sherlock's arms, and shook his shoulder slightly.

"Hmph." Sherlock sighed into the leather cushion. Molly smiled and tried again. Sherlock shook his head and lifted himself up, blinking about the room.

"What… was I just asleep?" Sherlock asked, looking around, his eyes dazed.

"Yes, you were." Molly confirmed.

"I don't sleep on cases." Sherlock stated adamantly, shifting around so he was sitting right on the edge of the sofa.

"Well, good thing you're not on one right now." Molly giggled slightly.

"See. This is why I hate sleep, it leaves me disoriented." Sherlock complained, rubbing his eyes.

"I deeply enjoy sleep." Molly murmured.

"I do have to say that sleeping with you is far more enjoyable than sleeping by myself." Sherlock muttered, standing up. Molly blushed slightly at the slight innuendo in Sherlock's sentence, but immediately chastised herself for it.

"Yes, well. I have to thank you for being there for me today, Sherlock, really thank you." Molly smiled, looking down at her shoes and avoiding the gaze of a certain consulting detective.

"You're… welcome." Sherlock replied.

Molly nodded, and chuckled a little. "If I had to hear one more person say to me 'everything will be alright' or 'death happens to everyone' I think I may have committed a homicide."

Sherlock's lips quirked up in response. "The day Molly Hooper commits a murder is the day London falls."

"I thought the day London falls was the day that Mrs. Hudson left?" Molly asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, but it seems much more unlikely that you would harm anyone." Sherlock stated.

"Oh I don't know, when I'm really pissed, I can get pretty ugly." Molly grinned mischievously.

"I think I'd like to see that." Sherlock smiled, just as cheeky. Molly let out her first genuine laugh of the day and grabbed her things, heading towards the door.

"Knowing you Sherlock Holmes, I can confirm that you most _certainly_ see me pissed sometime." Molly smiled, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

**I've been planning to throw in Molly's dad for a while now, I was just looking for the right time. I hope you guys think I handled Sherlock comforting Molly correctly. I just have this headcanon that Sherlock uses his body/actions to express himself and his feelings more than words. So there you go.**

**Speaking of headcanons, I also have one that Molly plays piano, and another one that she played uni soccer. **

**So it is written, so it shall be done.**

**Anyway, yes.**

**Also, can I just say to all of you darlings, thank you for the reviews? They're really what keep me motivated with this story. You could even say, that they are a very... ****_vicious motivator_****... *Winks***

**Jesus I'm lame. I'll just see myself out now.**

**God. **

**Yeah for some reason you all think I'm funny? Like what? My humour consists of really bad puns and taking everything in a dirty sense.**

**No matter though. Thanks for the reviews guys, I love you all!**

**Hope you like the chapter, be back with another chapter soon!**

_**~Ellie**_


	14. A New Addition

**MY LOVES! IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG.**

**I've been really busy.**

**And today's crappy excuse is brought to you by Ellie enterprises, specializing in procrastination and napping since 1995.**

**No but I have been busy, with school, and then football (soccer) and I somehow made it onto the volleyball team? And now of course Drama is starting up for me, and Drama club is really the only thing I like about school, other than english and enrichment. We're preforming A Christmas Carol for my school and my town when December rolls around, so that'll be fun. And, in enrichment (which is like an extra class I get for being smart. Lol, who would've guessed?) I'm starting to look at screenplays and plays and books, and soon I'll be adapting my favourite book in a screenplay and then there's piano lessons and band class AND AUUUUGH TOOOO MANNYYY RESPONSIBILITIES.**

***runs away into the sunset with my laptop, flipping people off as I go***

**Ahem, anyway yes. So I've been busy as a squirrel with a bucket full of nuts. But while I've been busy, a certain two people have not been GETTING BUSY WITH THERE NUTS. **

**Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter, there's a special... guest in here ;)**

**Someone you may or may not know.**

* * *

"Oh my god, Mary!" Molly exclaimed, looking down at her feet.

"What? Why are you looking at him like that?" Mary demanded, hands on hips.

"Did you talk to John about this?"

"I may have forgotten to mention it…" Mary murmured, crossing her arms and leaning against the door to her entrance way.

"Mary!" Molly scolded.

"What? It's not that big of a deal!" Mary exclaimed.

Molly sighed and looked down at the little dog at her feet. The English bulldog puppy looked up at her with big brown eyes, and tilted its head to the side.

"I just thought it would be nice to have some company when John's away on cases with Sherlock." Mary defended, leaning down to pick up the tiny wrinkly bulldog.

"Mary..." Molly sighed.

"Look at him Molls! Look at his little face! Look!" Mary demanded, bringing the small puppy up to eye level with Molly.

"Pwease Mwolly, pwease don't mwake Mwary send mwe away? John will wuv mwe! And I cwan twake poo poo's all over Shwerlock's flwoor when he's bweing a dwick too!" Mary said, in a mocking baby tone. Molly couldn't resist it; she started to giggle, especially when she thought about the English bulldog taking a poop on the floor of 221b.

"He better not take 'poo poo's' on the floor of 221b, you'll give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack." Molly smiled.

"Yes but the look on Sherlock's face would be priceless." Mary grinned. "Wouldn't it? Wouldn't it Gladstone?" Mary cooed to the dog, rocking him back and forth in her arms.

"Gladstone?" Molly questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, he has a name, and dog law states that as soon as you name a dog, he's yours forever. I'm keeping him." Mary said stubbornly.

"Interesting name." Molly commented, picking up her paper coffee cup and taking a swig.

"He's named after John Hall Gladstone, a British chemist." Mary said proudly, cuddling Gladstone to her face.

"Sherlock will approve." Molly smiled.

"Yes, that was the point, might soften him up a little to the dog, because whether he likes it or not, Gladstone's here to stay." Mary smiled.

"Well, the boy's are certainly in for a surprise when they get home from their cases, aren't they?" Molly asked.

"Honestly, if John's surprised by this, he better get used to it. I'm only getting started honey." Mary said slyly. Gladstone barked in agreement.

* * *

"Mary invited us for take out at her flat." John murmured beside Sherlock, looking down at his phone. Sherlock craned his neck and looked at the text.

"She has something she wants to show you." Sherlock said, leaning back into his seat in the cab.

"How do you know that?" John asked, turning to Sherlock.

"We don't typically have dinner at Mary's flat, in fact we always have it at 221b, because our flat is within close proximity to all the best places to get food. Also, her wording, 'having dinner at my place tonight, bring Sherlock, Molly and I have some body parts for him.' She wasn't asking, she was demanding, leaving no room for argument, and she's bribing me with body parts so obviously, she has something to show you and I." Sherlock explained quickly, not stopping for breath.

"What do you think it is?" John asked, analyzing the text.

"Something we're not going to like." Sherlock said grimly.

"What makes you think that?"

"She said she got the food from Angelo's yes? We all know that's your favourite place to eat; in fact, I'd wager she got your favourite meal as well. And then there's the fact that she and Molly have gotten me body parts, she clearly trying to soften the blow of something."

"Oh god." John muttered, putting his phone away.

"Here we are." Sherlock said in a singsong voice, paying the cabby and getting out of the taxi. John followed him up the steps to Mary's bright blue door.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." John muttered again as he rapped his knuckles on the door, clearly very worried. Molly answered the door. Her hair was down, and looked very nice today, but Sherlock forced himself not to focus on that.

"Hi guys! What was the case li-"

"AHHH! NO! GET BACK HERE!" Molly's greeting was interrupted by Mary's yelling. Molly bit her lip and cast a worried glance behind her shoulder. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.

"So how was your case?" Molly asked again, clearly trying to keep the two of them distracted.

"Barely a 6. What's going on Molly?" Sherlock demanded, as he and John stepped past her into Mary's entryway.

"Nothing, what makes you think anything's going on?" Molly asked, trying to appear innocent. Her innocence however was destroyed as a crash echoed through the flat.

"SHIT! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! DON'T YOU DARE! NO!" Mary yelled from her kitchen.

"Mary?" John yelled, walking slowly to the kitchen door.

"Hi John! I'll be out in just a minute!" She called merrily. However, the trio all heard her grumble afterwards, "You let go of that right now you little…"

"Mary, is everything all right in there?" Molly asked.

"Yes everything is perfectly- AHH!" They heard Mary shriek, and not two seconds later, a small puppy, a bulldog, bounded out of her kitchen, covered in Italian food, holding a human hand is it's mouth.

"Oh my god." John muttered in disbelief as the dog pranced about, and jumped onto one of Mary's carpets with such force that the dog and the carpet slid across the floor towards them, only stopping when they both hit Molly's feet and tangled into a heap on the floor.

"Gladstone…" Molly sighed, gently kneeling down and picking up the messy dog gingerly. Thankfully, he was still wrapped up in the carpet, so Molly's shirt was protected from the pasta sauce, and he had dropped the hand onto the floor.

"Gladstone?" John asked. In response, the small dog's head poked up from the carpet, and yipped at John, his tongue hanging out of his mouth at an odd angle as he panted in excitement.

"Yeah…" Mary sighed, as she stepped out of her kitchen and into the hall, covered in red spaghetti sauce. "I got a dog… surprise." She exclaimed, wriggle her fingers and hands in an imitation of jazz hands. Sherlock looked to John to gauge his reaction. He never knew how John felt about animals, dogs in particular, as he had never asked. Sherlock and John had never considered getting an animal in 221b. Everyone in the room watched John, waiting for what he would say.

"This little dog caused all of this?" John asked, staring at said little dog.

"Yes…" Mary answered, scratching the back of her head.

"So he's crazy then? Good, he'll fit right in." John nodded, before he set off into a bout of laughter. Mary stared at him in shock for a moment before she and Molly started laughing as well. Even Sherlock cracked a smile.

"Well, glad I got that over with. I was afraid you would be upset." Mary admitted.

"Upset? No, I'm not upset, I'm just wondering what compelled you to get a dog all of a sudden." John questioned.

Mary shrugged. "He'll be good company when you and Sherlock are away on cases."

"I'm not so sure about good company. The hand is completely useless now." Sherlock spoke up, looking down at the severed hand, which was covered in pasta sauce and dog saliva.

"Gladstone was conducting an experiment, to see how a human hand would react to dog spit and Italian food." Molly smirked, unwrapping Gladstone carefully and handing him back over to Mary.

"So that's his name then, Gladstone?" John asked.

"Yes." Mary nodded, smiling as the puppy's stubby tail wagged slightly.

"Named after John Hall Gladstone, British chemist I'm assuming?" Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow at Mary and taking off his coat.

"Precisely." Molly said.

"Well, Gladstone needs a bath… I think the kitchen sink will do." Mary smiled, cradling the dog to her chest.

"And the carpet and hand needs to be disposed of, and then we need to clean the hall and kitchen no doubt." John grimaced, looking down at the floor.

"I'll bathe Gladstone, Sherlock and John, you guys can wash the floors up. Molly, can you get rid of the carpet and the hand?" Mary asked. Molly nodded.

"Ok, great! So everything's in order then?" Mary asked.

"We'll have to get more food, Sherlock hasn't eaten in two days…" John said, giving Sherlock a pointed look. Sherlock merely rolled his eyes.

"I'll order in, I'll go and pick it up after." Molly offered.

"Good!" Mary beamed. She then looked down at Gladstone. "Ready for your bath?" Mary asked in a teasing voice. Gladstone cocked his head in response.

* * *

After everything had been cleaned, and Molly had gotten more food for the quartet to eat, everyone was settled in Mary's small dining room nook, eating their Chinese with a very content Gladstone gnawing on a puppy toy in the corner.

Mary looked back on him with a fond smile. Sherlock looked on the dog with distaste.

"That thing… is getting nowhere near Baker Street." Sherlock declared, shoveling a little bit of rice into his mouth.

"That 'thing's' name is Gladstone, and he will be going wherever he wants to go, thank you very much." Mary shot back, lifting her nose up with an air of finality. Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave Mary a small sarcastic smile.

"Yes, well, we'll see what Mrs. Hudson has to say about that." Sherlock murmured, lifting an eyebrow up at Mary, challenging her.

"I already talked to Mrs. Hudson about it. She said it was fine once he was house trained." Mary smirked. Molly and John shared a fond, exasperated look from across the table as Sherlock and Mary had it out.

"Dr. Morstan if you bring that dog anywhere near 221b, the consequences will be dire." Sherlock said in a straight and threatening voice. Mary didn't back down.

"And just what will those consequences be, Mr. Holmes?" Mary asked, emphasizing the word Mister.

"Our friend Gladstone here might find himself on the receiving end of one of my experiments. I've always wanted to see how a smaller animal would react to ADHD medicine." Sherlock deadpanned.

Mary gasped, and stood up from the table, grabbing Gladstone from his blanket and curling him in her arms. "You shall do no such thing!" Mary exclaimed, taking her seat at the table back, now with a disgruntled Gladstone in her arms.

"Try me." Sherlock muttered. Mary glared at him for a moment, before a smug smile shot up on her lips.

"Sherlock Holmes, just you try to hurt my Gladstone, you'll see what happens. You know my power." Mary threatened. Molly smiled to herself slightly and shook her head, looking down at her plate. It was because of this that she didn't see Mary's eyes lock onto Sherlock's, and every so slightly flick to her right, where Molly was sitting completely oblivious. Sherlock straightened.

"Well now, that's settled then. I think I better take Gladstone outside for a bit! Join me John?" Mary asked, attempting to be casual. John threw her a look, but nodded anyway, grabbing his jacket as Mary hooked Gladstone onto his leash.

"Be back in a minute darlings! Ta!" Mary called over her shoulder, as she stepped outside into her miniscule backyard that was really only a strip of grass. John cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Surely Gladstone doesn't need two people offering him moral support for a crap?"

"Oh John." Mary sighed, "don't you know that all delicious and exciting things happen behind closed doors?"

* * *

Molly sighed as the door closed behind John, getting up to gather the plates and leftover garbage, preparing to load them into the dishwasher, she could feel Sherlock's eyes on her back like a spotlight as she kept her hands busy. No doubt deducing everything about her. Molly tried to ignore it as she turned to Sherlock and smiled brightly.

"Peter's coming down for a visit soon!" She announced, trying to break the silence, and the tension.

Sherlock looked through her for a moment, no doubt trying to find Peter in his mind palace, when he did, his eyes coloured with understanding.

"Mary's brother." He stated. Molly nodded.

"Mary's birthday is coming up soon, so he's coming down to celebrate. Pus he's got his wedding in a few months." Molly sighed, plunking cutlery into it's appropriate space in the dishwasher. Sherlock looked at her expectantly.

"He got engaged to his boyfriend Kellan. Didn't I tell you this already?" Molly asked.

"I probably deleted it." Sherlock answered, offering her his fork.

"Yes well." Molly smiled, trying to ignore Sherlock's look that he was giving her. It was dark, and delicious, and fucking distracting.

"So Peter is gay then." Sherlock asked slightly.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Molly questioned, turning to the sink in an attempt to appear uninterested.

"No reason." Sherlock said simply, clearly not going any further. Of course.

"Right." Molly sighed, as John and Mary clambered back in, with a happy and panting Gladstone.

"What's gotten him so tired?" Molly asked, a small smile on her face.

"Oh, he was chasing a leaf, and whenever he got close to it, it would dance out of reach." John dismissed, sitting down again. Molly looked down at the small dog that was looking up at her with its big; brown eyes, and then looked back to Sherlock.

It appeared her and Gladstone had a lot in common.

* * *

** Weeeelllllllll?**

**Worth the wait? What didja guys think. I'm writing this while talking to my best friend over the phone. I'm going to ask her to tell you guys something.**

**"I am much cooler than you and have a better taste in music." - My best friend Cameron.**

**Words of a profit.**

**Don't take that as an insult, she's like that to everyone.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! I just had to bring Gladstone in. I don't think it was in the original ACD Holmes books, but it was in the version with Robert Downey Jr, and we all know that anything with Robert Downey Jr. in it is legit.**

**Anyway, yes, I also mentioned Peter will be coming back soon, so prepare yourselves for that, (He'll be bringing a little bit of trouble with him too... teehee)**

**Anyway, its' time for survivor and Mum is yelling at me to 'get off that goddamn computer and hurry my ass up, because survivor is about to start' so I better cut this short, for my personal health and safety.**

**Review, favourite, follow!**

_**~Ellie**_


	15. Operation Sherlolly

***List of wimpy excuses as to why the chapter took so long to get out***

***Stupid shit about my life you don't care about***

***lame joke***

***Something about how much Sherlock and Molly need to bang each other***

***Incoherent babbling***

**Ok, good, so that's out of the way.**

**Anyway, this is kind of just a little filler chapter today that is foreshadowing for chapter 16, which will be full of plot and angst and devious planning and hot moments galore.**

**And hopefully it wont take me forever to get out!**

**Sorry about that. So here's the chapter!**

**...**

**...**

**BUT BEFORE WE GET TO THE CHAPTER. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT SEASON THREE FOR A MINUTE? CAN WE PLEASE. SHERLOCK SEASON THREE IS COMING OUT ON JANUARY 19TH FOR US NORTH AMERICANS. THIS IS SOME BIG SHIT. I'VE BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR THIS. LOOK HOW FAR WE'VE COME. THERE WILL BE SHERLOLLY AND HOW HE FAKED HIS DEATH AND SHERLOCK AND JOHN'S REUNION AND I'LL PROBS CRY AND I'LL HAVE TO TAKE A DAY OFF SCHOOL BECAUSE IT WILL BE TOO MUCH.**

***ahem* here's the chapter... again.**

* * *

"So Mary, 35… only 5 years away from the big 40." Peter shot out at his sister, who was mixing together a bowl of mac and cheese in Molly's kitchen. Mary scoffed and rolled her eyes at Peter, whose only response was to wiggle his eyebrows at her mockingly.

"I don't understand why people freak out so much about turning forty." Mary stated, grating cheese furiously.

"They're afraid of growing old, of losing their youth, their internal clocks are ticking." Peter shrugged, putting his feet on the coffee table. Molly looked up from her book to give him a death glare, eyeing his feet ferociously. Peter cocked an eyebrow. Molly shook her head muttering under her breath about 'smart assed Morstan's.'

"Why should I panic? I've got a great job, a nice flat, and a steady boyfriend. All's right in the world, the gods favor me, blah, blah, blah." Mary defended, stepping into the living room, waiting while their dinner heated up on the stovetop.

"Yeah, if I were you I wouldn't be worried darling. It's me who should be worried. I'll probably end up a lonely spinster, who cuts up bodies during day and returns to her hoard of cats at night." Molly said dryly, only half joking. After all, her own 35th birthday in the beginnings of winter was fast approaching, and she was feeling a little anxious herself.

"Oh please, by this time next year, we'll all be sitting around married, maybe a few kids popped out." Peter scoffed, waving Molly off.

"And who would I be married to, Mr. Morstan?" Molly asked, setting her book down, resigning herself to the fact that she'd most likely not get any reading done tonight.

"Sherlock Holmes of course. And Mary will be Mrs. Watson, probably bloated up with a rug rat, and I'll be exactly the same, strikingly handsome and in a steady relationship with a gorgeous man. Although I do hope that I have a tan this time next year… I've been thinking of going on a trip to Cuba with Kellan again. I always do get so pale come fall…" Peter trailed off, thinking deeply. Molly and Mary both blinked at him.

"You think I'll be married to Sherlock?" Molly exclaimed.

"You think I'll be married and pregnant with John's baby!" Mary yelled over Molly.

Peter stared up at the two flustered women.

"Obviously."  
"And just what makes you think that, Peter dear?" Mary huffed crossing her arms.

"You and John love each other right?" Peter asked.

"Well… yes! Of course!" Mary answered.

"And you don't want to be with anyone else?" He inquired.

"Definitely not."

"And you could very well see yourself having a future with him?"

"Yes." Mary answered.

"Well then why not get married?" Peter shrugged, inspecting his nails.

"But…" Mary stammered, heat rising to her cheeks. "It's not that simple…"

"Yes, it is, you're just reading to much into it." Peter shot back.

"Marriage isn't something to be taken lightly…" Molly interjected.

"No, it isn't. But why delay what you already know is going to happen? It's quite obvious John is in it for the long haul. Are you Mary?" Peter asked.

"I am… it is really that simple isn't it?" Mary asked, blinking off into space. Molly could almost see the gears turning in her head… what was going on in there?

"I find, that in times of trouble, it is best to quote Beyoncé." Peter stated, clearing his throat.

"If you like it, then you should put a ring on it. Lesson of the quote, if you like it, and it's sexy, put a ring on it. End of story." Peter finalized. Mary went over to the kitchen and started puttering around, keeping her hands busy.

"Well what about me?" Molly asked, shifting her weight on the couch slightly. "You think I'll be married to Sherlock?"

"Honey, it wont be long till our dear detective learns you're one of a kind and decides to make you his." Peter sighed.

"Sherlock is married to his work." Molly defended.

"Yeah well, they're getting divorced."

"Sherlock would never divorce from his work." Molly scoffed.

"Yes he would." Peter said simply. "Although, if he did marry you, he might keep his work as a mistress of sorts… like you would come first, being his wife and all, but he might go away for a few days to dally with his work."

"Why are you two talking about his work as if it's a real person?" Mary asked from the kitchen, exasperated.

"I thought it was a nice metaphor." Peter said dejectedly.

"It was okay." Mary shrugged.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to get at here, is that eventually Sherlock's gonna realize that he loves you Molly, and I have no doubt that he'll soon be considering the benefits of marriage." Peter said.

"How did we get from talking about growing old, to me marrying Sherlock?" Molly asked, running a hand through her hair.

"My brother likes to cause trouble and stir up emotions." Mary yelled from the kitchen.

"I admit… I do. So, did I succeed?" Peter asked, watching as Mary carried in their food, setting it down on the coffee table and taking a seat in the small little armchair.

"You might've got me thinking a bit. You offer some valid arguments." Mary shrugged, trying to look casual, but Molly could tell she was thinking hard. She knew Mary better than she knew herself.

"Thank you for the compliment, dear sister."

Together they sat and ate, discussing Peter and Kellan's wedding at length.

"We've decided both of us will have 2 to 3 groomsmen, and 2 to 3 bridesmaids." Peter said, wriggling his eyebrows at the pair.

"Are you implying what I think you're implying?" Mary asked.

"Depends on what you think I'm implying." Grinned Peter.

"You want us to be your bridesmaids." Molly smiled, growing rather excited at the prospect of being a bridesmaid.

"No, I was going to ask Sherlock and John of course! I'm thinking mint green dresses; they'll really flatter John's curves, and bring out Sherlock's eyes!" Peter gushed sarcastically.

"Idiot." Molly scoffed, playfully punching Peter in the shoulder.

Eventually, they finished with their evening meal, and set out to leave for Mary's flat, where they would all be spending the night.

"It'll be just like when we were in high school! Movie marathon galore!" Mary squealed, slipping into her shoes.

"There's just one thing I have to do first!" She exclaimed. Molly and Peter exchanged glances.

"What's that?" Molly asked.

"Why, I have to go pick up Gladstone of course!" Mary beamed.

"Where did you leave Gladstone…?" Molly asked, feeling as if she already knew the answer.

Mary simply smirked.

* * *

Sherlock stared at the little panting creature in front of him. He'd just gotten out of his mind palace, after sorting through some old cases, and had looked to his side.

And there was Gladstone. This was Mary's work no doubt, she was always trying to be devious and stir up trouble. That's why she was his favourite girlfriend John had had so far.

But he didn't particularly want this wild animal in his flat.

"Go away, I'm working." Sherlock told the small English bulldog, who tilted it's head to the side and yipped. Sherlock winced.

"Leave. You're not wanted here." Sherlock tried again. He didn't have much experience with dogs; his father had never been the animal type.

Sherlock looked around the room. It looked as though Gladstone had been here for about 4 hours, and other than a chewed up jumper, nothing seemed to be damaged.

Sherlock sighed, and decided he ought to just ignore the dog, and then maybe it would leave him alone. So Sherlock settled back down, and assumed his prayer position, set to go into his mind palace. He had some memories of Molly he had to sort through.

Sherlock was going through when Molly had helped him with an experiment the other day at St. Bart's when he felt a weight on his chest.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, only to be met with the sight of Gladstone, not three inches away from his face. Sherlock was surprised, how had this tiny mammal scampered up onto the couch? He considered yelling for John, but he was taking a 'nap' and for some reason, he didn't like to be disturbed during one. Sherlock scooped up Gladstone and placed him on the floor. Problem solved.

* * *

Mary opened the door to Sherlock and John's flat, and the trio stopped dead when they saw what was waiting for them inside.

"Sherlock?" Mary guffawed, looking at the worlds only consulting detective, who was perched on the kitchen counter, glaring down at an adorable Gladstone, who was trying to find a way up to the detective.

"Get it out Mary." Sherlock commanded, now sending his glare to her.

"Hello again Sherlock." Peter smiled, holding back laughter. Sherlock didn't break his gaze away from Mary.

"Peter." He greeted simply.

Molly sighed and shook her head, pushing past Peter and Mary, to where Sherlock and Gladstone were. She picked Gladstone up, and giggled slightly when he wriggled in her arms, trying to get closer to Sherlock.

"I guess he likes you Sherlock." Molly sighed, shouldering her bag and adjusting Gladstone.

"The feeling is not mutual. He would not stop clambering all over me. He was interrupting my thinking process." Sherlock complained, getting off of the counter.

"Here, we have to go anyway, so you can think all you like, without interruptions. I'll see you tomorrow, we have to check on those cultures right?" Molly asked, trying to distract Sherlock. Sherlock nodded.

"Alright. Goodbye!" Molly smiled, turning to Peter and Mary. Mary winked at Sherlock when Molly had her back turned, and Sherlock glared back at her.

* * *

Mary nudged Molly gently, checking to see if she was really asleep. Satisfied that she was, she looked over at her brother Peter, who was bundled up on her armchair, watching the screen intently. Mary grabbed the remote and paused their movie. Peter turned to her as she idly pet Gladstone's head.

"I have a proposition for you." Mary whispered, being careful not to wake Molly.

"Oh?" Peter asked, sitting up and lacing his fingers.

"Yes. You see… John and I have a little project we've been working on, and I was wondering if you'd like to help?" Mary asked.

"And what's this project?" Peter questioned, cocking and eyebrow.

Mary grinned. "Operation Get Molly and Sherlock Together."

Peter frowned. "I think we can think of a cooler name dontcha think?" Mary laughed under her breath.

"So you're in?"

"Of course I'm in. I love Molly, and she deserves someone. And maybe, if he tries hard enough, Sherlock may be worthy of Molly." Peter smiled, looking down at the topic of their discussion as she slept.

"Good. When you, John and I go out for lunch tomorrow we'll discuss." Mary said, sitting back into her chair.

"Sounds good. Oh, and Mary?"

"Yes Peter?"

"Let's call it… 'Operation Sherlolly.'" Peter said, gesturing his hands for dramatic effect.

"Sherlolly?" Mary giggled.

"Yeah, it's their name's put together and stuff. It's cute." Peter defended.

Mary shook her head. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

**Teehee. I couldn't resist. Operation Sherlolly. Haha... hahahaha... HA.**

**Also, I think I'm in love with Gladstone. He's going to be a perfect comic relief when things start getting angsty.**

**HUZZAH! **

**Annnyyywayy. I hope you liked the chapter. It's all fluffy and happy since I am fluffy and happy right now. Why you ask? Well, because my soccer team won the district banner and we're moving on to regionals, and my birthday just passed on October 19th...**

**OMFG.**

**YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I GOT FOR MY BIRTHDAY FROM MUM AND DAD.**

**I'll give you and hint. It's gold, circular, and THE FUCKING BEST PRESENT EVAHHH.**

**It's the ring of power from Lord of the Rings.**

***Nerdgasms.* **

**I also got the first season of Sherlock on DVD, and my parents watched the pilot with me. They liked it! :D**

**ANyway. Review, favourite and follow my lovelies! Love you all! **

_**~Ellie.**_


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